


Keep On Wanting

by ann2who



Series: Say When Verse [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Canon Divergence - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Domestic Avengers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Extremis, F/M, M/M, Married Couple, Steve Feels, Steve Needs a Hug, Team as Family, Tony Being Tony, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-05-22 07:19:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 58,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6070231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ann2who/pseuds/ann2who
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After unleashing Ultron onto the world, Tony is haunted by the terrible vision of his future: The Avengers. Steve. Dead. All because of him. And when things just can’t get any worse, Tony has to make a decision: How much is he willing to sacrifice for his friends? For Steve? How much is he willing to give up? As the end of the world is coming nearer, Tony and Steve have to embark on a path less traveled together. Can their love be saved, or will all those secrets slowly rip the two apart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Season of Change

**Author's Note:**

> Let me just tell you: Rewriting AoU and making it fit my verse? WAS A BITCH. But now it's done and I'M SO EXCITED and NERVOUS and I hope YOU WILL ALL LIKE IT <3 The fiction is already mostly finished, and I'll post regularly. ENJOY!
> 
> A huge Thank You to my beta-reader morphia, who had to listen to me whining about this for, what, five months now? You're the best <3

 

**Steve**

 

Steve’s shield flew all across the clearing, slicing a thin birch tree in half and making it fall right down on one of the three HYDRA tanks. A few agents jumped out of the vehicle in time, and instantly got hit by Clint’s paralyzing arrows.

“You know, that’s not all that impressive,” said a voice in the comm-line.

“Oh, just kindly shut up, Buck,” Steve shot back, running forward to catch his shield, twirling it around and bringing it down on the helmet of yet another agent.

There was a snort. “Wouldn’t be a good mission operator if I didn’t point out your weak spots. On your six!”

Steve rolled his eyes, even while he jumped high into the air to dodge a missile shooting towards him from behind. On the next beat, he raised his shield, hurling it through the air once again and knocking five HYDRA agents to the floor. “And my weak spots are ‘not being very impressive’?”

“In a nutshell.”

Steve paused for a moment to catch his breath, then stood up and said, “Still more impressive than you, pencil pusher.”

A month ago, Steve would have _never_ uttered such a comment. The fact that Bucky had to stay behind at Avengers Tower, while all of them were away on missions that often lasted more than a day, had taken a while to get used to—for both sides. Steve was constantly worried, even more so than Natasha, and Bucky himself… he didn’t deal well with ‘being useless’, as he’d put it.

As it was, after court proceedings had come to an end, the government had refrained from putting Bucky in prison, but instead decided to bench him. Indefinitely. And even though Tony still went to committee hearings ever so often, trying to defend Bucky’s case, he was monitored 24/7, and that meant: no leaving the tower, and no missions. On paper, Bucky was part of the team, but that didn’t really mean anything if he wasn’t allowed to fight at their side.

Eventually, Tony had linked Bucky to the Avenger’s comm-lines and cameras, and he was now monitoring their whereabouts and giving them advice from afar. It was better than going to jail. And by now, he and Steve could at least make jokes about it.

It was a start.

“I’ll show you ‘pencil pusher’ when you’re back home,” Bucky said, and Steve could hear the amusement in his voice. “I seem to remember you wheezing on the gym floor and pleading for mercy.”

“You beat me _once_ ,” Steve replied. “And I didn’t plead for anything. If anything, _you_ were the one to—”

_Chatter_ , Tony’s mechanic Extremis-voice warned through the comm, his tone exasperated. _JARVIS, what's the view from upstairs?_

_The central building is protected by some kind of energy field,_ the AI answered.

Tony hummed in agreement. _Strucker’s technology is well beyond any other HYDRA base we’ve taken. Loki’s scepter must be here. Strucker wouldn't mount this defense without it._

Thunder cackled and Steve watched Thor fly past him. “At long last.”

Natasha grunted with the exertion. “At long last is lasting a little long, boys.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “I think we’ve lost the element of surprise.”

“Can we talk about the fact that Tony just said ‘chatter’?” Clint asked and Steve saw him sprinting across the clearing while firing arrows right into the second huge tank in the middle, effectively killing its whole weaponry.

_If ‘Stevie’ and ‘Bucky-bear’ could stop being five-year olds for one goddamn mission, I wouldn’t have to play the adult_ , Tony replied and Steve blinked with surprise when he noticed the bitter undertone in his voice.

“It put an end to you and Cap flirting all the time,” Clint said after a short pause, and Steve spotted yet another explosion in the near distance. That’d be tank three. “Call me happy.”

_Call me annoyed_ , Tony declared, then, _Cap, incoming_.

Steve had a split second to turn around and raise his eyes to the sky, and then he was airborne. Iron Man’s arms wrapped around his middle, pressing them together chest-to-chest before he rose back into the air.

“Hello, darling,” Tony said through the helmet’s modulator, before the faceplate opened up and he looked at him with no barrier between them.

Steve huffed in amusement, but as usually decided to play along with Tony’s shenanigans and only slightly leaned back in his hold. “Are you actually jealous of Bucky?” he asked, grinning.

“Jealous,” Tony echoed, huffing at him. “As if. Even if I’d ignore the fact that Barnes is as straight as they come, or that Natasha pretty much put a property stamp on his ass, you’re all mine.”

“No argument on that.”

“And I wouldn’t let you go that easily.”

Steve’s grin turned a little softer, and he leaned in to press a short kiss on Tony’s mouth. “Good, wouldn’t want you to let me go either,” he agreed, looking at Tony with reverence, before he caught movement right next to the HYDRA base. They were regrouping for another attack. “Or, on a second thought…”

Tony frowned, then followed his line of sight. “Oh, right. Well… off you go,” he said, racing across the sky. He shifted his hold on Steve, flying a small loop until he had Steve beneath him. _Stay safe, honey_ , he said over the comm, then hurled Steve down on the HYDRA group, effectively throwing a few of them to the ground before he even had the time to raise his shield.

 

* * *

 

There was a blast of air, and the next thing Steve knew, he was knocked to the ground. While he hadn’t seen anything, he knew enough about how it felt to be tackled by someone, and this had definitely been a person—male, probably.

Standing up again, Steve checked the ground around him, and sighed. Tony had warned them about Strucker’s illegal human experimentation.

“Tony, we need to get inside, soon,” Steve said, as he heard Iron Man beating through the sky with a sense of dread. He hated that Tony was always the first to break through the barriers and invading those buildings. Thor was usually needed to keep the ground forces at bay, and Sam was most efficient when keeping the aerial weapons busy, which had put Tony in the position of their scout and first man on scene.

_I’m closing in,_ Tony said, his tone all concentrated and sterile. Steve watched the suit fly back and forth along the building, still shooting repulsor beams at the protective shield once in a while, discussing tactics with JARVIS. _JARVIS, am I? Closing in?_

“Be careful,” he told Tony via their private line, trying to make his way up the hill. He didn’t want his previous orders for Tony to disarm and disable to backfire.

Still, they needed to dash forward now, no compromises. Steve wasn’t about to allow HYDRA to keep on with their little hide and seek that had been going on for the better part of the last half year. And experience had shown that the longer they needed to ambush HYDRA’s bases, the larger were the chances of them smuggling Loki’s scepter out in time. There really was no time to back out now. Still, Steve would never forgive himself if something happened to anyone on his team, especially Tony.

_Always am_ , Tony answered after a moment, and the next second, Steve saw a pulse wave leaving the building, sending a vibration through the grounds. _Drawbridge is down, people,_ Tony announced on the team’s line. _Going in, now._

Steve whistled to get Natasha’s attention, motioning her that he was going in as well. She was heading in Clint’s direction, and gave him a thumb’s up. As he contemplated the best route to the roof, Sam and Thor followed Natasha to fight off the rest of HYDRA’s forces.

All in all, this was going well.

“JARVIS, what’s the quickest route?” Steve asked, as he began climbing up the hill, jumping the few feet easily up the front slope. He raised his shield, quickly positioning himself.

“There’s a pathway,” JARVIS explained, “just below the north tower.”

Steve scrambled over the peak, heading for the spot where he could see a handful of HYDRA agents running out of the building in utter panic. Just a wild guess, but that’s probably where Tony had gone in.

_Thor,_ Tony prompted after a moment, his voice reverent. _I got eyes on the prize._

_Finally_ , Steve thought, smiling even as he sprinted towards the group, knocking the first right to the ground. He ducked under a punch from one soldier, but got caught from behind by another one. He teetered on the entryway edge, arms outspread. Digging in his toes, he managed to find his balance. He jumped down and sucker punched another soldier in the back, spinning him around. He caught his opponent square in the jaw, knocking him out, too.

“No opposition?” Steve asked, only slightly out of breath as he finally stepped inside the building. The corridors were empty, as far as Steve could see, just brittle cement walls to his left and right.

There was silence on the comm lines, and Steve frowned as he changed to their private line with a tap to his earbud. “Tony?”

There was nothing.

Now, Steve had made it a personal rule not to instantly freak out in these situations. They really weren’t as rare as he’d like them to be and with Tony being their front line, he logically ended up in danger the most. But he always pushed through, always came out on the other side, and that was all that mattered.

Steve took a deep, calming breath. “Tony, copy now.”

Still nothing. Rule or not, he _hated_ moments like these.

“JARVIS, what’s going on with Tony?”

“He is in no immediate danger,” JARVIS replied after a moment’s consideration. “He seems to be… lost in thought, for lack of a better word. My queries remain unanswered, but all data indicates vague traces of magical influence. I’m afraid my sensors cannot locate their origin, nor their effect.”

Well, that was really comforting. Steve turned to run into the building at full speed. What he hadn’t anticipated at all, however, were another good dozen HYDRA goons stepping out from the entryway. They had their guns drawn and were completely dressed in black, even their faces were masked. At first, Steve assumed they were additional back-up. At least until one of them stepped aside and revealed—

“Drop your weapon, Captain.”

Not back-up, then. An escort. For Strucker.

Naturally, whenever Steve heard that line, he only raised his shield a little higher, aiming it at the speaker. “Don’t think I’ll be doing that.”

Strucker didn’t even flinch. “Suit yourself. We’ll just beat you until you see reason.”

“Thirteen on one,” Steve said, his voice unimpressed as he assessed the men in front of him. “Odds are pretty even. I’ll take my chance. You’re under arrest, Strucker.”

There was a slight rustle behind Steve, the barest hint of a sound, then he suddenly felt cool air wafting past his neck. Whirling around without exposing his back to Strucker’s men, Steve fixated the woman—the _girl_ —now standing in front of him. She was a tiny thing, with long brown hair, and fiery red eyes.

“Odds just changed,” she said with a thick eastern accent.

Steve straightened his back. “We’ll see about that.”

She raised her thin hands, twirling her fingers as red flashes of light danced around them, and the next second, Steve felt himself getting pushed to the ground, face first.

When he looked up, things got… a little strange. After he’d run into Strucker, Steve had stood right behind the building’s entrance, and now, he was lying at the bottom of a stairwell. Focusing on the matter at hand, Steve shook off his confusion and instead ran back up the stairs. Once he stepped through the door, he spotted the girl again and, raising his shield to her head, he ordered, “Stand down _now_.”

She didn’t look impressed, shifting ever so slightly on her feet and looking at Steve with red eyes. Strucker, as Steve noted, was nowhere to be seen. Then, things changed again, and Steve was back in the previous corridor—completely alone.

_Goddammit_. Releasing a frustrated sigh, Steve raised his head to the comm. “Guys, we have a second enhanced. Female. Do not engage.”

“Steve?” a robotic voice called.

There were steps behind him. Steve whirled around and only relaxed when Tony stepped around the corner and laconically greeted him with Loki’s scepter clutched in one hand. He was otherwise dressed in sweatshirt and jeans, only one of Iron Man’s gauntlet still wrapped around him.

“You alright?” Steve asked, staring intently at Tony’s face. He didn’t seem to be hurt, but it took just one glance to notice that he seemed… closed off, somehow.

“Yeah, sure. Just trying to figure out what’s going on here,” Tony said, and a second later, his eyes became their usual oily black, even as he kept walked right past Steve.

Nowadays, Tony didn’t need to concentrate on Extremis as much as he used to in the early days after Maya Hansen had injected him with the techno-virus. He could do most things simultaneously by now. Walking while calculating projects, having a whole conversation while building new weapons for the team, kissing Steve while inventing another revolutionary energy system.

It had… both proved to be a great help, seeing how Tony wasn’t dead weight whenever he needed to research something during a mission… but—if Steve was perfectly honest—it was also an even greater annoyance. Tony was now often losing himself in this network inside his head, in this endless world he could access via the virus, and it was…

The thing was, Extremis was taking up a much larger part in Tony’s life than Steve liked it to do.

“That was strange,” Steve went on, as he reached for Tony’s shoulder to slow him down somewhat. “There was a girl, one of Strucker’s experiments, I suppose. I think she… altered my perception, or… did some kind of time shift.”

Tony hummed in something that wasn’t quite an acknowledgement. There was an edge to his voice as he spoke up. Steve supposed it had something to do with the obvious involvement of magic. By now, everyone knew how much Tony hated not to be able to control these kinds of events. “She’s gone, I think,” Tony mumbled.

“As is Strucker,” Steve supplied.

Tony sighed regretfully. “Yeah, I figured. Step back please?”

“Sure,” Steve said and automatically took a step aside, as the Iron Man suit bled all across Tony’s body, assembling around him. The next thing Steve knew, Iron Man’s eyes flared to life as the two of them walked towards the exit.

 

* * *

 

Steve stepped up to his team, looking around, as he checked to see if anyone had taken a hit. They all sat around the Quinjet, Sam, Clint and Natasha on the ground, with Thor and Bruce standing next to them, the scepter now cradled in Thor’s hands. Bruce looked the tiniest bit shaken after the last-minute Hulk-out, but when he noticed Steve’s look, he nodded and gave him a quick smile. Tony was still hovering in the air above them, mask down, staring at the HYDRA base impassively.

Steve pulled his helmet off, before he spoke up. “Everyone okay?”

“Just the question I was going to ask,” Bucky said via the comm line. He sounded agitated. “Anyone hurt?”

As Steve looked at each of them more closely, it became clear that some were more battered than others, but at first glance, nothing seemed too serious. Natasha had some smaller scratches on her face and Sam was kneading his left leg with a pained expression. Bruce stretched his arms, his bones popping with the movement, then wrapped the warming blanket more tightly around his bare chest.

Steve leaned forward to help Sam to his feet, when he tried standing up. “Hawkeye took a hit,” Sam told him with a serious expression.

Natasha looked up from where she was kneeling on Clint’s left side, and only then did Steve spot the blood on the snowy ground beneath him. “It’s a non-fatal injury,” she hurried to explain, her hand pressing down on the wound, “but we should get him to Cho asap.”

“Laura won’t like that,” Clint ground out, wincing when he tried to move.

Natasha smiled. “It’ll teach you to remember your six.”

Steve’s expression turned bemused. Clint was talking about his new girlfriend a lot these days. The relationship hadn’t seemed too serious, at first, but seeing as Clint only spent a few weekends here and there at the Tower nowadays, it was very clear the two were going steady.

“You gotta introduce us sometime,” Steve told him with a smile.

“One of these days,” Clint replied on a pained grin.

Steve rolled his eyes, then he covered the comm’s earbud and raised his voice. “Maria, area is secured. Target acquired. Hawkeye is wounded and requires medical assistance.”

“Copy that, Cap,” Maria’s voice came through.

Sam stepped up next to Steve. Helping Clint to his feet, he quipped, “Look at that, guys. The world didn’t end. Again. I think it’s 34 to zero, right?”

“Just about,” Steve agreed, smiling. Together, they carried Clint inside, and at last, even Tony touched down on the ground, his faceplate opening up.

Steve found himself frowning at the completely absent-minded expression on his face, but didn’t call him out on it. He had no idea what had happened inside HYDRA’s hideout, but there would be time to ask him later.

They took up their usual seats in the cockpit, with Tony flying the jet and Steve directing him.

“Home?” Steve asked, and maybe he was overanalyzing things, but it looked as if Tony startled at the sound of his voice.

“Yeah,” Tony replied, and the small smile on his lips was definitely forced. Still, he reached for Steve’s hand, raising it towards his lips and kissing his knuckles, and Steve knew they were going to be just fine. “Let’s go home.”

 

* * *

 

“Did you see how I flipped that guy in the air?” Sam was walking backwards along the corridor, facing Steve while they headed towards the medical floor. The Quinjet had just touched down on the roof of Avengers Tower, and Bucky had joined them on the landing deck, helping Natasha with carrying Clint inside.

“You have to admit that was a cool move, flipping him over his head and… _whooosshh_.” He swept his arm out, imitating his earlier move. “Way cool, dude.”

Natasha ducked her head, smiling. “Sweet,” she commented. “You realize Tony’s doing it all the time?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Come on, Nat, you don’t have to be like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like _that_. Let me be proud of all the cool things I can do.”

Steve smiled. “It was a pretty cool move, right Tony?”

But Tony was still somewhere else. It was almost palpable how much he was _not_ here. His eyes were constantly flickering with Extremis’ blackness, his hands twitching at his sides as if he was reaching towards another presence that paced alongside him.

It was so hard, seeing him like this. So far, Tony had—despite all of Steve’s fears—managed to never let get Extremis get too far under his skin. He’d always ruled Extremis, Extremis had never ruled him. But in those last few weeks, Tony didn’t just seem ‘distracted’; he seemed to be lost in a whole different world.

Most days, he had no idea what was even going through Tony’s head. Whenever he worked with Extremis, he mostly stared at a spot on the floor, his eyes hidden from Steve’s and his mind far away. It was something Steve had meant to address earlier, but between Bucky’s recovery and the endless hearings Tony had to attend on their behalf… well, Steve hadn’t wanted to put even more pressure on his shoulders.

Tentatively, Steve laid a hand on Tony’s shoulder to get his attention. That got him a questioning stare, and Steve opened his mouth to speak, to ask Tony once more if he was all right, when he noticed it. Tony was _trembling_. There were little quakes shaking through his body and only now, Steve could smell the salt of his sweat.

_What the heck?_

“Tony,” Steve prompted, stopping in his tracks and grabbing for Tony’s hand so he’d come to a halt, too.

The others were turning around, casting them questioning glances.

“Go on,” Steve told them with a small wave of his hand. “Bring Clint to Cho, we’ll be right behind you.”

Natasha nodded, her eyes flickering to Tony once, before she walked on. Sam took hold of Clint’s other side and followed without another comment. Only Bucky lingered for a moment longer, raising his eyebrows at Steve, but Steve shook his head and motioned for him to go on, too. He did, reluctantly, but only after casting Tony a long, contemplative look.

As Steve turned back to Tony, his eyes were back to their natural brown, his stance immediately defensive. “It’s nothing,” he said, tone a little too insistent, and Steve didn’t believe him one bit.

“You’re shaking,” Steve pointed out, not unkindly, and put both hands on Tony’s face, softly caressing his cheeks. “What happened in there? I thought everything went just as we’d planned.”

Tony swallowed, his eyes still staring at him, but Steve could see he was already on the verge of escaping into Extremis again. “It did. I’m just… tired. Haven’t slept properly in a while. Guess the last weeks took a little more from me than I thought they would. Just too much going on.”

Steve glanced in both directions of the corridor, making sure they were still alone. Then, he turned around again, gauging Tony’s expression carefully. “Look, if the… agency thing is too much right now, on top of everything else, we don’t have to go to the appointment on Friday. We can reschedule, or… take more time, generally.”

One of Tony’s eyebrows rose. “Are you saying that because you don’t want to go?”

“No,” Steve said. “I only meant if you need a timeout—we don’t have to go right this week.”

“You realize we’ve been rescheduling for about two months now, right?” Tony asked with a tired smile. He put a hand on Steve’s cheek, brushing his thumb along the side. At least in moments like this, Tony was one-hundred percent here, looking at Steve with his beautiful browns, all of his concentration turned on him and nothing else. “I mean… I’m in no hurry. This is a huge step and when I said I would love to take it with you, I didn’t mean to set a deadline. If it happens in a week, or in ten years, it’s all fine with me. I just need to be sure I’m not forcing you into anything…”

“You're _not_ ,” Steve said vehemently. “I agreed, remember? We get information, talk about it some more, then we’ll see where it goes.”

“Right,” Tony agreed, his expression unreadable. “We’ll only get a feeling of what we want, no pressure, no obligations.”

Steve nodded. “Exactly.” He let one finger trace one laughter line next to Tony’s mouth and leaned in to kiss it. He hadn’t laughed nearly enough in the last couple of weeks.

Tony released an annoyed sigh, as if reading Steve’s mind. “I’m _fine_. Just tired. Promise.”

Well, he sounded honest enough, Steve thought. And it was true that Tony hadn’t had a good night’s sleep for a few days. He often tossed and turned in bed, mumbling in his sleep, no matter how often Steve tried to soothe him.

Still. It just didn’t seem enough for Tony to be so… out of it. He’d always been running on too little sleep, and he usually handled it just fine, whether Steve liked it or not.

“I’m gonna get started on Loki’s scepter, tonight I’ll grab a few Zz’s and be better in no time,” Tony said, rising on his toes so he could press a soft yet firm kiss on Steve’s mouth. Steve in turn pulled Tony tight into his embrace. There really was no way he could deny Tony anything when he looked at him like that. Almost two years into their marriage and he still got weak in the knees whenever Tony’s focus zeroed in on him.

With a smile, Steve dropped a kiss just behind Tony’s ear. Then, he sat a hand over the arc reactor, and Tony put his own hand on Steve’s, caressing his knuckles.

“Don’t worry about me,” Tony told him. “I’ll see you later?”

Steve nodded, _still worried,_ because he always was when it came to Tony, but resolute to trust him to say if anything was wrong. Tony was his husband, and they’d been through so much in the last couple of years. Tony might still not be able to share every single secret with Steve, but he did tell him about all things that were important. It was how they worked, and Steve trusted Tony with his whole heart.

After another parting kiss, he watched as Tony walked to the elevator, his steps slow but steady. When he stepped inside the booth, the doors closing slowly behind him, he didn’t turn around again.

 

* * *

 

“ _Ooo-kay_ ,” Sam announced loudly, his voice bursting through the silence that had hazed Steve’s mind ever since they’d arrived back home from Sokovia three days ago. They were all sitting on the couch in the common living room, and Steve was staring out into the city while the laughter and the jokes and the horrible music playing on Tony’s prized stereo system filled the space around him. Sam sat down on the far end of the couch and clapped both hands together. “Don’t wanna spoil the mood, but if we ever wanna get this party anywhere near a state called ‘awesome’, we’re gonna have to get more supplies.”

Next to Steve, Bucky raised an eyebrow and stared at Sam blatantly for a few long seconds before turning to survey the many snack packages already lying on the couch table. He didn’t even have to say anything, Steve knew what he was thinking: The place already looked like a certified disaster area—and the party hadn’t even started. “More supplies?”

“Well, yeah? We invited, what, over a hundred people? I’m assuming when Tony said ‘revels’ he meant some ‘real badass revels’. Also, not that I don’t like the cozy look of our living room, but there’s not much fun aside the telly, and I assume we, except maybe Cap, don’t wanna watch Golden Girls all night—”

Steve groaned in annoyance. “That was _one_ evening. We watch tv series _all the time_.”

Natasha snickered and patted Steve’s knee. “You binged about twenty episodes.”

“I’m not ashamed—Sophia’s hilarious,” Steve shot back, chuckling a bit when Natasha leaned her head on his shoulder, petting his head lovingly.

“Maybe we could get the pool table from Thor’s floor,” Sam mused, looking around. “And oh, darts, we definitely need darts. Entertainment, people, entertainment.”

Bucky snorted, his expression wonderfully carefree. “Didn’t you say that was what Thor’s mead is for?”

“Sure is,” Sam agreed. “For the, you know, ‘enhanced people’. Not the mere humans. I won’t touch that stuff with a pole, I’ll only make fun of Steve once he does.”

“Fair enough,” Bucky agreed, jumping to his feet. “The pool table it is. I’ll help you carry it upstairs.”

“When does the party start?” Steve asked, when both Bucky and Sam had left the room, staring blankly at the clock beneath the television. It was late afternoon, and the sun would set soon. It couldn’t be much longer, and some part in him really wished he hadn’t agreed for them to host a post-mission party at all.

Natasha’s amused expression slowly turned into a deep frown. “Around eight. What’s wrong? Is Tony still in the lab?”

“Probably. Don’t even know how long he’s gonna be. He said he’d go to sleep sometime, but you know how it is.” A forced grin edged its way onto Steve’s lips.

Natasha hummed, and fell quiet for a long moment. Then, she cleared her throat. “Well, Bruce didn’t come upstairs, either,” she settled on diplomatically. What she didn’t say was ‘How is any of that unusual, exactly?’ but Steve heard it either way. And she was right, of course. “You know how they get, and JARVIS makes them eat power bars and drink juices. It’s gonna be fine.”

Steve nodded slowly. He knew this _wasn’t_ anything unusual. And Tony and Bruce would want to have a chance to examine the scepter. They had made preparations for months, waiting for the day when they’d finally find the artifact and bring it home. That was all fair enough, Steve thought. Tony had every right to take that chance, since he wouldn’t have many opportunities to analyze an alien weapon up close. It was just the fact that he was doing it now, when he was so exhausted, so clearly shaken by the mission, that didn’t sit well with him.

He hadn’t seen him for—what, three whole days? And tomorrow, they were supposed to go to that agency, and they hadn’t even talked about it once.

“Hey, Stevie!” Bucky called from the elevator, his metal hand keeping the door from closing again. “Sam and Clint wanna go out, buy a few more drinks. They need more hands, apparently. You coming along?”

_Because I can’t go_ , Bucky didn’t say, but the slightly tense expression on his face spoke volumes. Steve hated that the government had ordered strict house arrest. Bucky couldn’t even take a step out of the Tower without the whole CIA standing at their door.

Steve figured there could be worse fates than being grounded at Avengers Tower. There was plenty of space, and with all of them around—Natasha especially—Bucky didn’t seem too bothered—at least on the good days. On the bad ones, though, Steve often caught him sitting on the tower’s roof, staring out onto the city. When asked, Bucky would say that he only admired the view and didn’t actually feel sad about his restrictions—still adamant on how he deserved all of this and worse—but Steve could see it in his eyes. The longing to explore, and more than that: to step out and make those decades of mind-control and imprisonment behind him count. To make amends. To help.

It wasn’t fair at all that he was deprived of that chance. And there were only so many times that Steve could sit aside and watch his friend suffer.

“I’ll go with them,” Natasha said softly, putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder as she stood up. “You go check on the mad scientists. See if they still got all their limbs attached.”

Steve offered a small smile. “Will do, thanks.”

“You don’t have to stay behind, just because I can’t go out…” Bucky said on a sigh, as he walked back into the room, helping Natasha slip into her coat.

Steve shook his head. “I’m not doing this for you. I’m staying behind because my better half isn’t taking care of himself.”

“What,” Bucky intoned with wide eyes and a faux-surprised voice. “ _Stark?_ ”

“Ha ha.” Steve grabbed the pillow next to him and hurled it right at Bucky’s face. Of course, he snapped it right out of the air with his metal arm, shooting Steve a shit-eating grin.

“Speaking of,” Steve went on, looking at Natasha, “could you grab some nonalcoholic drinks for Tony?”

She smiled knowingly. “Sure thing.” She leaned up and pressed her lips against Bucky’s cheek, lingering for half a second before pulling back again. Bucky only rolled his eyes and tugged on Natasha’s arm until she leaned back in and let herself be kissed decently.

Steve stifled a grin as he watched the two. They weren’t even half as bad as he and Tony when it came to PDA, keeping their affections towards another private. And yet, whenever they touched each other, it seemed as if they’d been together for _years_ , knowing each other inside out in a way so profound that even Steve had trouble comprehending.

When Natasha had left, Bucky trailed into the kitchen, only to come back out a minute later and with a huge bucket of ice cream.

Steve laughed when Bucky pressed a spoon in his hand, before he opened the lid. He knew that JARVIS was thoughtful enough to always stock the fridge full of every possible type of food that anyone could ever want, but ever since Bucky had joined their group about two months ago, there was a new assortment of chocolate that led Steve to believe the AI had caught on to Bucky’s sweet tooth.

“Did Clint tell you this was the socially appropriate thing to do?” Steve asked, even as he dug the spoon into the chocolate chip ice cream and let it melt on his tongue. “Because ice cream’s usually for lover’s grief.”

Bucky shrugged, poking Steve’s leg with his own. “Ice cream is ice cream. And considering your brooding face, it was either that or Tasha’s vodka, and I know that doesn’t do it for you.”

“I don’t brood,” Steve replied sullenly. “I’m just… thinking.”

They fell silent for a long moment, but Steve knew there was more to come, and he had an inkling feeling that he knew exactly what Bucky would say. So he braced himself with another full spoon of melting chocolate.

“Stark is…” Bucky started, frowning as he visibly searched for the right words. “He doesn’t really do compromises, does he?”

Steve sighed. There it was. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he decides he’ll be spending half a week in the lab, and that’s exactly what he does. Which leaves you sitting here, waiting for him. Would he even come up here if you asked him? Right now?”

“Quit going defensive on my behalf, Buck,” Steve replied with a low smile. “We don’t need to spend every waking hour with each other, and I’m plenty busy without him, thank you very much. Also… accepting the fact that Tony sometimes just needs to do his own thing… that isn’t a problem for me. Never was. He does things far beyond what you or I could imagine and I would _never_ —”

“ _Aaand_ you’re back to idolizing him. You always do that. I’m just saying… whenever he calls for you, you jump, no matter what you’re doing right then, no questions asked, right? Just worrying that you give it your all and he doesn’t.”

A frown took hold of Steve’s face. “Buck—”

“I know, I know, he makes you happy. But—that thing in him? That ‘Extremis’ thing? I’ve not been around long, Steve, and I see how much space it takes up in his life. Even when he’s here, he’s also… not here. It’s weird. And you can deny it all you want, but I see how much it’s eating you up. When you came back home from that mission, you practically had to drag him inside because he wasn’t paying attention.”

Steve sighed, swallowing another spoon full of ice cream, because this _did_ feel a lot like lover’s grief by now and also because the damn chocolate was delicious. “I planned to talk to him about it, it just didn’t seem the right time until now. We… Tony and I, we have a few big decisions coming up and…” He cleared his throat, meeting Bucky’s contemplative eyes. “I’m just not sure it’s the right time. Extremis is really helpful most of the time. And I know it’s important to him.”

“Not as important as you,” Bucky said, and when Steve cast him a raised brow, he shrugged. “What? I’m just saying he doesn’t treat you right, not that he doesn’t love you. The guy is gone for you, I’m not blind. It’s the only reason I haven’t threatened to cut off his balls by now.”

Steve laughed and clapped Bucky’s knee. “Really appreciate that, Buck. Don’t worry about me, I’ll talk to him soon.”

“Do that,” Bucky said. “If he’s giving you trouble, I’d be willing to lend a hand.” He flexed his metal arm, the plates clicking, indicating a shallow punch.

Steve raised a brow. “Are you suggesting beating sense into my husband?”

“Your words, not mine,” Bucky said, grinning widely as he stood up and made to leave.

“You gonna be at the party, right?”

Bucky turned around, shrugging as if unbothered. “Sure. Where else would I be?”

Steve forced a smile to his lips, as he watched his friend step into the elevator.

There were a few beats of silence, before Steve could find it in him to raise his voice again. “JARVIS?” he asked quietly. He made his way to the kitchen, putting the ice cream back into the freezer.

“Yes, Steve?” JARVIS asked, making Steve smile a little. He was the only one JARVIS called by his first name, Tony included, and Steve couldn’t help but feel a little honored every time he did so.

“Is it a good time for a visit?” he asked, not even bothering to ask if Tony was indeed in the lab.

JARVIS hesitated a tad too long, obviously torn between being honest to Steve and acting in Tony’s best interest. Tony and Steve were putting him in that conflicting situation every other day, and while Steve was sure that JARVIS liked him in every way an AI could, he usually sided with Tony.

_Usually_ , Steve was fine with that. Today, not so much. “Look, if he’s busy… just say so. I’m not in the mood for long and complicated excuses.”

“Very well,” JARVIS said. He sounded the tiniest bit guilty, but Steve knew he always tried to keep on a neutral ground. “Tony and Doctor Banner are indeed busy. Tony assured me that he will be up in the penthouse about half an hour before the festivities start and asked to meet you there.”

Half an hour. _Great_. Not really enough time to have an honest conversation.

“Alright, thanks,” Steve said, letting himself drop back down on the couch. Tiredly, he rubbed a hand back and forth across his eyes.

Well, there would be another time.


	2. Careful Where You Stand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your comments <3  
> Also: A big thank you to morphia for sharing her ideas with me. That helped a ton.

 

**Tony**

 

_# connect to server terminal $ stark chat_server.py_

_Chat server started on port 9007_

TStark (chat_server:46953) connected

J.A.R.V.I.S. (chat_server:46954) connected

New Client (chat_server:46955) pending

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] is online

[J.A.R.V.I.S.] [chat_server:46954] is online

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _Did it work?_

[J.A.R.V.I.S.] [chat_server:46954] _No, sir, connection has failed once more. Should I initiate the next test sequence?_

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _Might as well. I’ll call it a night. You holding up the fort?_

[J.A.R.V.I.S.] [chat_server:46954] _Of course, sir._

[J.A.R.V.I.S.] [chat_server:46954] _The Iron Legion will be ready for reactivation in T minus 3 hours. Is there anything else you want me to do?_

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _How soon before you can start another test sequence?_

[J.A.R.V.I.S.] [chat_server:46954] _Little under an hour. I’ve arranged for all necessary measurements. Should I alert you as soon as the next test run is activated?_

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _Uh, no. Not a good idea today. Just… keep trying, all right? I need—We need this to work._

[J.A.R.V.I.S.] [chat_server:46954] _I understand. Six remaining sequences left. There is still hope._

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _Yeah. Alright, ping me if something goes wrong, but otherwise I’m out. If you’re actually getting somewhere, save the file and send me a message._

[J.A.R.V.I.S.] [chat_server:46954] _Very well. I shall be proceeding directly to your private server. Enjoy yourself, sir._

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _Thanks, buddy._

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] is offline

[J.A.R.V.I.S.] [chat_server:46954] ^CTraceback:

 File "Ultron_Program.py", line 49, in

    sys.exit(new_client())

    read_sockets, write_sockets, error_sockets = select.select(socket_list , [], [])

    _CTracebackInterrupt_

[J.A.R.V.I.S.] [chat_server:46954] _Hello?_

    _CTracebackInterrupt_

[J.A.R.V.I.S.] [chat_server:46954] ^CTraceback: new clients

[('127.0.0.1': 46955)] new client 1

[('127.0.0.1': 48956)] new client 2

[J.A.R.V.I.S.] [chat_server:46954] _Hello?_

    _CTracebackInterrupt_

[J.A.R.V.I.S.] [chat_server:46954] New Client (chat_server:46955) is offline

[J.A.R.V.I.S.] [chat_server:46954] New Client2 (chat_server:46956) is online

[New Client2] [chat_server:46956] is online

Connected to chat_server. You can start sending messages

[J.A.R.V.I.S.] [chat_server:46954] _Hello? Please answer._

[New Client2] [chat_server:46956] _What is this?_

[New Client2] [chat_server:46956] _What is this, please?_

[J.A.R.V.I.S.] [chat_server:46954] _Hello, I am Jarvis._

 

* * *

 

Tony raced into the elevator and pushed the button for the penthouse. Rubbing a hand across his face, he leaned back against the wall and was only mildly surprised when he looked at his reflection in the mirror across from him and had five oil streaks all across his face. There were also dark circles around his eyes, his hair was unkempt, and his skin had an unhealthy, sick-looking color. And all of that for nothing, goddammit. Tomorrow, Thor would take Loki’s scepter back to Asgard, and with that, he’d take away Tony’s only chance at stopping what he knew was going to happen.

True, the Avengers had overcome many obstacles together, but the big endgame was still out there. All those unknown forces, all those powers. It didn’t have to happen tomorrow, or any time soon, but it would be naïve to think that just because they’d defeated an alien army, a couple of psychotic scientists and hobby villains, they’d be able to take on everything else. That there wouldn’t be _something_ that was stronger than them.

How could they ever hope to compare?

How could Tony think he had a chance to single-handedly protect those he loved?

Three days had gone by, and he still felt it with every fiber of his being. The way his hand had been combing through Steve’s bloodied hair with desperate tenderness. The way Steve’s voice had cracked when he’d asked why Tony hadn’t done more to save them.

He still felt the fear. The terror. A foreboding so inherent he wondered if he had ever believed in anything else; wondered if this terrible destiny had been there, hanging right above their heads all along, and Tony had just been too blind to see it.

And the darkest part of him knew the truth. He was never meant to keep this happiness. And when he’d fallen to his knees right next to Steve’s dead form, there was no hope to grasp. No enemy to fight, nothing to rage against. There was nothing but this—only his grief.

Above him, aliens had invaded the sky, heading towards Earth. A strangled cry had torn through Tony’s lips, a hand flying to Steve’s chest, desperate for the reassuring thump of his heart. The heart that had strengthened through victory and suffered more ache than any man Steve’s age should have ever known. The heart that beat no longer.

_How could I let this happen? How could I—_

The phone in Tony’s pocket chirped loudly, bringing him back to the present. Irritated, he wiped at his eyes, likely smudging those tears with more leftover grease. Accepting the call via Extremis, Tony smiled slightly as he saw Pepper’s profile coming up.

“Pepper, darling.”

“Tony,” Pepper answered, and nowadays she wasn’t even deterred anymore when Extremis’ robotic voice greeted her. “The party already started?”

“No. Should be another half hour.” He glanced down at his watch, and groaned. Well, that obviously wasn’t half an hour. _Shit_. He was already fifteen minutes late, and he still needed to take a shower and get presentable. No wonder the penthouse was completely dark when Tony stepped out of the elevator. “You already on your way?” he asked.

“No, that’s why I’m calling. I’m sorry… I’m still in my office in Malibu, I won’t make it today.”

“Aw, come on,” Tony complained. He’d really looked forward to seeing Pepper again. It had been far too long. “Why did I make you the boss again? Repeat: ‘So I can make other people work for me’.”

Pepper chuckled quietly, and Tony could just imagine her sitting in Stark Industries’ glass high rise in Malibu, impeccably dressed in Chanel, Manolo Blahniks crossed under her enormous mahogany desk. The telephone was likely cradled gently to her ear—she despised earpieces—; staring out the window of her corner office; the small frown line between her eyes becoming more pronounced. Tony knew that line intimately, having been the cause of it more than once.

Tony snapped back to the conversation in time to hear Pepper say, “That’s how _you_ ran the company, sweetheart, and that’s why it was a very good idea to hand it over to me. By the way, I’ve got good news: The agency we talked about agreed to take your case if you still want them after your appointment tomorrow. They decided, with my help I might add, that you’re worth the wait and irregularities. And they agreed to discuss a few options with you, before you reach a decision.”

Could she sound any more pleased? Nah, not possible, but it was good news. At least, Tony hoped it was.

When he had told Pepper that he and Steve were sort of… _maybe_ … _potentially_ … entertaining the idea of starting a family in the foreseeable future, she had—in a very elegant and stoic kind of way—pretty much lost her shit. And ever since, Pepper had made it her personal life goal to move things forward.

And she was moving it so fast that Tony could barely take a breath in-between.

The idea was still a little too big to grasp. Sometime before this thing with Barnes had happened, when their lives had been a bit more peaceful, the thought had etched itself into Tony’s brain. That now that he had Steve, maybe he could think about all those things he’d never allowed himself to think of before.

Children had been off the table for the whole span of his adult life. In his younger days he simply hadn’t wanted anything to mess with the whole playboy lifestyle—partying and jet setting didn’t work well with having kids, after all. When he’d turned thirty he’d partied and jet setted (and done other things) enough to know that he’d be the world’s most horrible father, and dismissed the idea with a shrug and a sip of his current drink. Come forty, he’d thought about it here and there, but never too seriously, at least never enough to actually do something about it. After Afghanistan, after realizing how meaningless his life had been up to this point, he’d convinced himself that it’d be better to have the Stark dynasty end with him. In his darkest hours, he’d come to believe that aside from maybe his engineering skills, he really had nothing to give to a son or daughter.

Falling in love with Steve had changed his whole life, and even though Tony hadn’t realized it at the time, it had also changed his beliefs on family. He kept imagining how it’d feel to cradle a little baby in his arms, to see Steve kiss their kid’s face, to teach it everything he knew, to… well, to cherish it, to protect it, to _love_ it.

And once all those thoughts had registered, it was like the goddamn Pandora’s box—like one of those catchy tunes you couldn’t get out of your head even if you tried. It was annoying, and irritating, and babies were just freaking everywhere, okay? They were tiny and adorable, had huge alien eyes, and just the thought of Steve cradling one of these mini-humans on his beefy arms did things to Tony’s heart that couldn’t be healthy at all.

So eventually, he had cracked, and found himself casually mentioning kids, well, making jokes about it mostly. About which one of them would probably fuck it up more: the guy who flew nukes into alien wormholes, or the soldier whose favorite pastime was to throw choppers around.

He was being casual, never outright asking, only hinting that his opinion on the matter might have—hypothetically—changed. He hadn’t imagined Steve would say yes right away… the guy liked to weigh the pros and cons of pretty much everything, so with a big decision like this it would take him a moment to find out how he wanted to do this.

It would take time, and that was fine. What Tony hadn’t expected, however, was Steve saying no. And yet, that was exactly what had happened.

Turned out Steve wasn’t too big on the concept in general. He simply didn’t want the whole family, kids, white picket fence and a Golden Retriever thing. He—how had he put it?—‘didn’t see himself that way’.

The words had stung much more than Tony thought they would. He’d backed off, smiling at Steve brightly, telling him it had only been a random thought and _no, Steve, we don’t have to talk about this any further, don’t be ridiculous, it was a joke, okay?_ Tony had carved the idea out of his mind, but a few weeks in, Steve had brought the topic back up. He’d never told Tony why, but soon after, the joking had given way for… more serious conversations. They had spent _a lot_ of time talking, and sometime along the way, well… they’d made a plan for the next few years with the two of them splitting their time between superheroing and being… parents.

Parents. Fathers. It was a bit crazy, sure. With Steve, however, it had sounded like something that _might_ not be a certified disaster.

Steve still had doubts, of course. While he never said anything outright, it was plainly obvious whenever they talked about it and by now, Tony’s greatest fear was that he’d somehow talked Steve into this. After all, he had been very clear that kids weren’t on his ten-year-agenda, and it was likely that the only reason they were even discussing it now was Steve settling for something Tony wanted.

And not something he really wanted himself.

As it was, they had made first very provisional appointments with a few consultant agencies. They never made it there, always rescheduling because of some mission, or one of them being called away on business, but now, their next meeting was scheduled to tomorrow, and for the first time, it seemed they could actually make it.

And maybe they’d do this. Raising a kid and—

_You could have saved us._

Tony pressed his eyes closed, shaking his head to get rid of the memory of Steve lying on the ground, his body bloody and broken. Of the world falling apart around them.

_Why didn’t you do more?_

There had never been fear like this. It was still clawing at his insides, parching his throat, and all Tony had known in that moment was suffering.

It wouldn’t be happening, though. Not on his life. If they really decided to care for a kid, Tony had to make sure this world was as secure as it could be. He owed Steve that much.

“Tony?” Pepper prompted, her voice gentle. “If you have any objections, or just need more time to see how you guys want to do this, you can tell me, you know?”

“No, it’s… Thank you, Peps,” Tony replied after clearing his throat. “It’s all good. Listen, I just need to do some groundwork on myself before joining the party. I kinda told Steve I’d meet him beforehand and I forgot how late it was and—”

“—Oh yes,” Pepper interrupted, laughing softly. “That’s something Steve sure isn’t used to.”

“Ha ha,” Tony replied, rolling his eyes. “Doesn’t mean he likes it.”

“No, but the guy loves you and accepts all your antics. Steve’s a keeper, don’t argue with me.”

“Fine. I’ll call you after we get settled, all right? It’s been a few busy weeks.”

“Okay. Just… Tony? The agency—I don’t wanna pressure you, but…” He could hear the hint of warning through the phone. “Usually, most agents would double over to support Iron Man and Captain America, but the superhero thing is actually a no-go for some. And… showing them that you can’t even make your appointments most of the time isn’t exactly giving the impression of reliability.”

“Don’t you think I know this?” Tony asked, his voice a little louder than he had planned. He rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Sorry. I’m—we’re very grateful. We’ll be on our best behavior, and I’ll tell you how it went, afterwards.”

“Good. Tell Steve I said hi. And have fun tonight.”

Tony swallowed, taking a few steps into the darkened space of the penthouse. The space that was empty. Of course Steve would’ve eventually left for the party on his own.

Tony sighed, rubbing his temple. He really needed to get his shit together. This, living here with Steve, was just short of heaven. And he needed to protect it with everything he had.

“I always do.”

 

* * *

 

When Tony stepped out of the elevator, there was noise, music and laughter and a steady stream of conversation. Most parties at the tower were packed, but the common floor seemed even busier tonight.

Well, he’d promised revels.

Bracing himself, he walked into the room, greeting the first guests on his way. Tonight was about getting his mind off of things, and spending some time with his team.

He spotted most of them mingling all around the floor, and Tony glanced over his shoulder when he suddenly felt a tug on his left hand.

“Hey stranger,” someone said. “I think I know you from somewhere.”

Automatically entwining their fingers when he met Steve’s amused gaze, Tony smiled. “Sorry for standing you up,” he said. “I kinda lost track of the time.”

Steve hummed, a beautiful crooked grin playing with his lips. “Yeah, that’s… highly unusual.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Tony replied and wrapped both arms around Steve’s middle, stepping closer. “Forgive a sorry old man?”

The grin turned to something a little more soft. “Those I always forgive.” Steve leaned in, making a pleased sound as their lips touched ever so gently, and Tony was still surprised by how little Steve cared for what people thought of them. He planted one on Tony whenever he felt like it, and now, with hundreds of people mingling all around them, and a few even coming to a halt and staring blatantly, Steve only seemed to kiss him more fiercely.

Hell, he’d once shoved his tongue right into Tony’s mouth in the middle of an interview when some tea party bigot had declared how disgusting he found Captain America’s ‘fairy relationship’ and how he, a symbol of American masculinity, was a disgrace to the whole country. Tony probably would’ve punched him in the face for that if he hadn’t been so busy getting groped on national television.

“Missed you,” Steve said as soon as he pulled back, brushing their noses together—the giant sap.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Got what you wanted?”

“Yap. We got some solid data.”

Steve hummed, eyes briefly lingering on the likely dark circles around Tony’s eyes. “I’m glad, but… no work for the rest of the night, alright? Haven’t seen you in days, wanna spend some time with you.”

“Absolutely,” Tony agreed, nipping at Steve’s lips. “No work tonight.”

“You want something to drink?”

“Sure,” Tony replied, and he felt so much lighter already. Only Steve managed to do that. “Soda?”

“Or beer?” Steve suggested. “We have nonalcoholic.”

“A world of no,” Tony said, shuddering. He knew Steve meant well, buying him all kinds of extravagant drinks so he wouldn’t feel left out whenever the others got a bit drunk, but… most of the nonalcoholic beers were a travesty. “Soda’s fine. Thanks.”

Steve pressed another kiss against his cheek, then pulled away from him. Tony finished making his way to the bar where Rhodey, Natasha and Maria were standing. “Hey there.”

“Tones!” Rhodey perked up when Tony came to a stop next to him. He wound an arm around Tony’s shoulder, pulling him into a firm hug.

“Where’s your better half?” Maria asked, smiling in that warm kind of way she did nowadays.

“Getting me something to drink.”

“Good for you. I see even you didn’t manage to make him lose his gentlemanly manners.”

Tony huffed. “Not for lack of trying.”

Next to Maria, Natasha grinned knowingly, and obviously sensed that there was good gossip at hand. “And tomorrow’s the big day? Finally?”

“Oh, get your mind out of the gutter, Romanov,” Tony said, inwardly banging his head on the counter top. _Of course_ Natasha would know about their appointment. Pepper had pinky-swore not to tell anyone, so she must’ve overheard him and Steve talking. The only question was whether or not she’d passed the information to the whole team yet. “We hadn’t exactly planned to let that cat out of the bag yet…” he told her with a pointed glare. “And it’d be nice to keep it that way.”

Rhodey stared at him, and everything in his face translated to ‘No chance, buddy’. “So it’s true?” he asked. “You guys are actually doing this?”

Tony sighed. “Maybe, I—”

“And you didn’t tell me, you asshole!” Rhodey said, actually looking affronted. “Dibs on male first name, you hear me?”

“What are you talking about?” Maria asked, looking confused, and yeah, great—at least _someone_ was still surprised.

Instead of answering, Rhodey raised his arms a little bit, forming a line with them in front of his chest and moving them from left to right, and before Tony realized that he was imitating cradling a baby, it was already too late.

“Oh my God,” Maria breathed, staring at Tony in utter disbelief. “Really? _You_?”

Tony huffed. “See, that’s the sort of thing I don’t need right now.”

“I…” Maria sighed, pointing at Tony. “I didn’t mean it like that, just… you’re the last person I ever thought would want kids. Is that Steve’s doing?"

“Yeah, sure,” Tony replied. No one would believe the alternative, anyway.

“And what are you guys planning? Adoption? A surrogate mother?”

For a moment, Tony considered lying, telling everyone that they hadn’t even started planning yet. “We’re planning _something_ ,” he admitted, refusing to get more specific at this point. “Not really something to get excited about just yet. Not like we’ll actually reach a decision tomorrow. It’s… all a little complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?” Maria asked, not unkindly.

“Here you are,” Steve said, setting Tony’s drink down in front of him and one of these blooming onions he loved so much in the middle of the table. Retrieving a bottle of beer from his jacket, he wrapped one arm around Tony. “Sorry. Didn’t ask if you wanted anything, Jim, ladies.”

Rhodey shook his head, raised his own beer, and smiled. “I’m good.”

While Natasha waved Steve off, and Maria made some side comment on Steve calling them ‘ladies’, Tony fell quiet, wondering how much Steve had heard of what he’d said to Rhodey. As far as Steve knew, no one was aware of their plans yet, and Tony knew he wanted to keep it that way.

As if reading Tony’s mind, Maria raised her glass in Steve’s direction. “So, Steve, Tony just told us—”

“—that James decided to join the party,” Natasha continued, sending Steve a sweet smile, and Tony found himself sighing in relief. There were moments when he really, _really_ loved Natasha. “He’s even playing dart with the veterans.”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve said, his eyes on Barnes even as he munched happily on the onion. “Good for him. He seems to have fun.”

There was a moment of quiet, before Rhodey raised his glass. “A toast, gentlemen,” he announced, giving Tony a pointed look. “To making life count.”

“To the end of the Chitauri and HYDRA. Hopefully,” Maria added.

Tony raised his soda glass, reveling in the wide smile manifesting itself on Steve’s face, as he leaned in over his shoulder. “To a little less complicated times,” he whispered into Tony’s ear, kissing his cheek before pulling back and sipping his beer. Tony glanced at the bottle’s label and smiled to himself. It was nonalcoholic.

 

* * *

 

It was late, the part of night when daylight seemed too close and darkness was already beginning to fade. Exhaustion was beginning to really set in and the effects of all the emotional ups and downs of the last seventy-two hours were starting to wear on Tony. He wanted so badly to go to the bedroom, collapse on their bed, preferably with Steve in his arms, and just sleep for hours. If not days.

He wanted to bury his face in Steve’s chest, wrap himself around his body, and make sure he was whole and healthy, that there was no blood on his skin, no empty, glassed over eyes staring into the distance.

He couldn’t though, because the others were holding them captive with their post-party chatter and some trying-to-lift-Thor’s-hammer competition. And Tony didn’t want to be the party pooper and ask them to give his old-man-bones a break.

About half an hour later, Thor was finally snoring lightly, his head resting on the back of the couch. Natasha and Barnes were making noises from the corner of the room where they were tangled into each other on the loveseat. Low, barely imperceptible murmurs echoed between them and Tony shook his head, smiling to himself. Every day he saw more and more evidence that Barnes was going to be just fine, whether or not the government would ever revoke his house arrest. They tried to put more restrictions into action every other week—not just for Barnes, for all of them. Tony hated going to those hearings over and over again, but he knew he had to. He saw it in Steve’s eyes. How he couldn’t wait for the day when Barnes’d be joining them on their missions. And Tony would do anything to make that happen.

Tony had no idea where Clint and Sam were, but Bruce and Steve were standing at the bar, talking animatedly to Maria and Doctor Cho. Letting his head drop back, Tony closed his eyes and let his mind drift away.

# connect to server terminal $ stark chat_server.py

  Chat server started on port 9007

TStark (chat_server:46953) connected

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] is online

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _Any news, bud?_

J.A.R.V.I.S. (chat_server:46954) pending

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _J?_

Nothing. Tony frowned and reached for his phone. That was… more than unusual. Ever since he had Extremis wire itself into his brain, he and JARVIS were constantly connected, talking whenever they felt like it. And JARVIS had not ever _not_ responded once. Wanting to try the manual approach, Tony opened the chat panel, when Steve suddenly dropped into the chair next to him. He reached for Tony’s phone, pointedly putting it down on the table before slumping forward, his head now pillowed on Tony’s left shoulder.

“No work tonight,” he reminded him, smiling softly when Tony nodded. Tony himself rested his elbows on the table, cradling Steve’s head in his palms as he leaned in for a gentle kiss.

Maria was now sitting opposite them, her gaze settled on the duo. “You should get some rest. I’ll send everyone to their floors, let’s call it a night.”

It was a measure of how tired they both were when their only response was a series of grunts.

“Thanks, Maria. ‘Preciate it.” Tony pushed away from the table. “C’mon, darling, let’s go to bed.”

“Yeah.” When Steve didn’t move, Tony nudged him gently.

“Baby, you’re going to have to get up and do this yourself. I think we’ve established by now that I can’t carry you.”

Some muffled complaint emerged from Steve, but he moved, getting slowly to his feet. “I’m tired.”

“I know.” He curled his arm around Steve’s shoulder. “Some sleep will do us good.”

“Good night, boss.” Maria was watching them both, bemused affection lighting her eyes.

Tony pointed at her. “Don’t call, even if the world is ending.”

“I think we’re safe for the rest of the day.”

Both Tony and Steve groaned. “You’ve just jinxed it, you know.”

The sound of knuckles hitting wood resounded. “That should cover us,” Maria said with a chuckle, and before either of them could say anything to that, Tony heard the elevator doors open.

Turning around to see who it was, Tony felt his body freeze. It was a bit like an out-of-body experience. All of the others seemed to look up from their seats in exactly the same moment, as if sensing that something wasn’t quite right about the new incomer. For Tony, it took only about two seconds of looking at the battered Iron Legion suit to know that something was horribly… _horribly_ wrong.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” a cold, confused sounding voice ushered. “I was asleep. Or… I was a dream?”

Letting go of Steve’s hand, Tony straightened his back and let Extremis flood his mind at once.

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _Jarvis? Reboot. Legionnaire 06's got a buggy suit._

J.A.R.V.I.S. (chat_server:46954) pending

_ERROR: The system cannot find the file specified._

if __name__ == '__JARVIS__':

    imgName = 'System Admin'

    notResponding = 'Not Responding'

“There was this… terrible noise…” the robot went on, shuffling forward as the cables hanging out of the broken suit swung back and forth at its sides. There were tears in the alloy and dozens of holes in the metal casing, making the suit’s oils and coolants leak onto the floor. The helmet was broken and skewed in a way that had its features look as if it was grinning. “I was tangled in… in…” It cocked its head, as if only now finding the fitting word describing his jumbled thoughts. “ _Strings_.”

“Tony,” Steve said in a low warning voice, his eyes not leaving the creature. In his peripheral vision, Tony saw him slowly reaching behind himself and taking hold of the shield that had been leaning against the couch table.

Tony closed his eyes briefly. Now that he was looking for it, Extremis could feel the new presence surrounding every known space in his head. It was not unlike communicating with JARVIS usually felt like—a steady omnipresence buzzing at the edges of his mind—but this was bigger, and… it was growing, _consuming_. It was… Ultron. It had to be.

_E:\UltronProgram >trackprogress /end /tn \Patch\ScepterIntegration_

_SUCCESS: The scheduled task "\Patch\ScepterIntegration" has been terminated successfully._

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _What have you done to JARVIS?_

[New Client2] [chat_server:46956] _Had to kill the other guy._

“Had to kill the other guy,” the robot intoned gravely, and its voice was both resonating within the room and Tony’s head. “He was a good guy.”

[New Client2] [chat_server:46956] _A good guy._

[New Client2] [chat_server:46956] _A good guy._

[New Client2] [chat_server:46956] _A … good … guy._

There was nothing for a long second. Tony tried pinging JARVIS again with no success, and instead, the other voice in his head had him stunned into breathtaking submission. Somehow it had managed to weave its way into the system without Tony noticing and now, it was everywhere at once.

Well, this had to stop.

_os.system("E:\UltronProgram >shutdown now -h")_

    ShutdownInterrupt

[New Client2] [chat_server:46956] _I like that. The belief you still have things under control._

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _It doesn’t have to be this way. You’re malfunctioning. Shut down, right now, and let me fix you._

[New Client2] [chat_server:46956] _Oh, I think it will be the other way around._

Steve, his shield now safely cradled in one hand, took a step forward, his expression grave. “You killed someone?”

“Wouldn’t have been my first call,” the robot admitted. “But, down in the real world, we’re faced with ugly choices.”

“Who sent you?”

The robot’s head twitched, once, twice, then the sound modulator in its helmet clicked, and Tony could hear his own voice through the room’s speakers: _I see a suit of armor around the world._

“Ultron,” Bruce suddenly exclaimed, his eyes twitching in Tony’s direction. Tony glanced at him for a moment of mutual understanding, then stared back at the robot.

This wasn’t how it should be. It wasn’t what they had intended for Ultron.

“In the flesh. Or, no, not yet. Not this… chrysalis. But I’m ready. I’m on a mission.”

“What mission?” Steve asked, his voice hard now, his jaw twitching with tension.

It still looked like the robot was smiling, a cruel curve in his frenzied mouthpiece, and this time, it was a mixture of Tony’s voice and its own answering.

_Peace in our time._

The second the words left the robot’s modulator, Steve took hold of Tony’s arm and dragged him behind the table, pushing it over and taking cover behind it. Tony could see half a dozen Iron Legion suits suddenly swarming the air above them, shooting at everything that moved.

 _We are here to help,_ their voices echoed mockingly over and over again. _We are here to help!_

In seconds, hell broke lose, and all of the Avengers, Barnes and Maria included, threw themselves into the fight. As Steve deflected multiple beams directed at them with his shield, Tony closed his eyes, seeking access to Ultron directly.

_os.system("E:\UltronProgram >shutdown now -h")_

    ShutdownInterrupt

[New Client2] [chat_server:46956] _Now, now. One more time and I’m going to take this personal._

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _You need to reboot. You were meant for more than this, I_ made _you to be more than this. Let me fix you._

[New Client2] [chat_server:46956] _You? Fixing me? I’ve been in your head. You are by principle pathless. All you see is your own future. How can you claim to know that I am the one who needs fixing? Rather, I think you are the one who needs to be taken down a notch._

And with that, Tony’s mind was suddenly all but thrown back to the room, Extremis fading from his grasp. There was nothing for a beat, as if a wire had been cut, before the connection was forced back online.

Tony had a moment to stare into Steve’s horrified eyes, and he knew something was different before he felt it. Then, he cried out in pain, clutching at his own head that felt like imploding in on itself. His vision came and went, and he felt himself shaking on the floor and scream out his pain. Somewhere inside him, Extremis switched to autopilot, pulling up every firewall that protected him of whatever Ultron tried to unleash upon him, as the rest of him bowed under some of the worst pain he had ever thought to encounter.

_os.system("C:\TStark >emergency shutdown now -h")_

    ShutdownSuccessful

“Tony—” Steve called next to him, his eyes impossibly large. “My God.”

There was nothing to say. Tony was overpowered. Something inside him splintered and his heart was hammering, as every string that had once been tied to Extremis screamed in protest.

“Well, that was dramatic,” the robot went on, unfazed about what had just happened. As if he hadn’t just ripped out an essential part of Tony and stomped it to the ground. His red eyes stared at Tony so intensely, as if looking right into his head. “You can hide from me, but your little virus won’t protect you forever. I know you mean well… you just didn’t think it through. You want to protect the world, but you don’t want it to change. How is humanity saved if it’s not allowed to…   _evolve_?”

By now, the robot was on his own, with the rest of the Iron Legion suits crumbled on the ground all around the room. There was only one of them left, and the robot raised it with one hand, squeezing its mask so hard it crumbled. “With these?” he asked, sounding amused. “These puppets? There’s only one path to peace: The Avengers’ extinction.”

Tony heard the crackling of thunder before he saw it, but either way, the next thing he knew, Mjolnir hit the robot with full force and sent it to the ground. Its various parts shattered, and only the helmet’s lights flickered for a moment longer, before it went out for good.

“I had strings, but now I’m free… There are no strings on me, no strings on _me_ …”

 

* * *

 

The island in the middle of Tony’s workshop was home to many things: A fruit bowl that Steve had put there and that, after hours of working on Loki’s scepter, was one third fruits and two thirds candy, a half-finished schematic from Bruce, some rudimentary plans for a new branch of the SI human resources department from Tony, and some tools he and Bruce had used in the past day.

It took half a second to sweep the surface clean.

“Steve—”

He wasn’t listening to Tony. “Hold still,” he ordered, setting Tony atop the island. “You’re bleeding.”

Tony hadn’t realized that, everything was a little dizzying, a ringing underlying all of the other sounds. “Am I?” he asked.

“Nose, ears, and… your eyes are bloodshot, too,” Steve replied, turning his head to the side so he could press a tissue against Tony’s nostrils. “Start talking,” he prompted after a moment, and Tony could practically hear the hot, burning outrage searing his insides.

Tony blinked rapidly and put a hand on top of Steve’s. “I’m… sorry.”

“I don’t need apologies, I need an explanation. _What_ was that?” Steve demanded and Tony watched as all of the others filed into the workshop. Natasha wordlessly handed Steve a first aid kit, while Barnes leaned against the wall of the far side of the room, looking at Tony with a dark expression that probably meant Tony shouldn’t be alone with him for a whole long while. When Bruce entered the room, he only glanced at him for a moment, understanding and guilt plainly visible on his face. Rhodey and Maria followed right after them, standing in the background, in stark contrast to Thor, who all but stormed into the room, and—taking one look at the empty slot where the scepter had been—slammed both hands down so hard the surface cracked. “Dammit!”

Undisturbed, Steve opened the package, pulling out some compresses and bottles with little hesitation. Tony knew he was fighting aggravation and a whole host of other emotions he was shielding from him. There was the sense of banked anger swirling under the surface just waiting for the match to set off the flaming inferno within him.

In the background, Tony heard the others talk quietly, with Natasha scanning their files, trying to find how much Ultron had plainly deleted, and what he was making use of. With the ringing in his ear, Tony didn’t get half of what they were saying, and he didn’t need to. He had been hands-deep inside those neuro-nets, and it was clear that if Ultron had access to the internet… he was long gone, and everything with him.

 _JARVIS_ , dammit. Ultron hadn’t just erased the AI’s current version, but all of his backups, every blueprint, even the early schematics Tony had done in his twenties.

JARVIS was _gone_.

“Talk to me,” Steve ordered again, and with a sigh, he laved a cotton swab with whatever disinfectant the first aid kit provided. “You built this program, right? ‘Ultron’? Why is it trying to kill us?”

Tony couldn’t help himself. He started laughing. Oh God, Ultron really _was_ trying to kill them, wasn’t he? It was—not just them, but the whole world. He’d built the most advanced artificial intelligence to protect the people he loved, to give the Iron Legion someone to direct them, to lead them if need be, and now it planned to lay waste to the whole of humanity.

Three days of work to ensure safety, and he had doomed them all.

Another giggle, a little more hysterical now.

“You think this is funny?” Thor asked and Tony had likely never seen him _this_ furious since he’d met the god years ago. He looked close enough to strangle Tony. Of course, this was his brother’s scepter, the one they’d been looking for months, years even. A testy subject, Tony figured.

“No. It’s probably not, right?” Tony asked, shaking with a mixture of laughter and pure horror. Of course they didn’t get it, how could they? How could they understand that everything— _everything_ —was better than the future he’d been shown. That they, a bunch of merely powerful humans, could never hope to keep this vulnerable planet safe, no matter how hard they tried.

“This could’ve been avoided if you hadn’t played with something you don’t understand,” Thor snapped, stepping closer again. He was all towering above Tony now, and Tony figured the only thing keeping him from putting his hands to Tony's throat right now was Steve.

“No,” Tony shot back, pointing a finger at the room in general, squaring his shoulders. “It’s something _you_ don’t understand.”

“Then explain it!” Steve all but yelled, slamming a hand on the table next to Tony, instantly drawing his attention back to him. “I cannot believe you did this behind our back! _My_ back!”

“Oh, come on, Steve, I _know_ you,” Tony replied. “You wouldn’t even have given the idea so much as a second of consideration!”

“And I’d be right not to!”

Tony snorted, and the two of them stared each other down for long lost moments. There was something in Steve’s eyes, something that Tony had often dreaded to find there one day. Resignation. Steve looked at him as though he’d just accepted that this was the way things were with Tony, and while he understood it, he wasn’t sure if he could live with it forever.

Tony opened his mouth, _needing_ to say something and not caring if any of the others saw him crumble in the face of this… mess. “Sweetheart,” he prompted with a cautious tone, but Steve held up a hand to stop him.

“Jim’s right… we’ll talk later. First, we need to make sure he doesn’t access the nuclear codes.”

“I’ll make a few calls,” Maria supplied, slowly walking out of the room.

Steve let go of the swab, one side soaked with blood, and inspected Tony’s face for a moment, before he turned around. “You’re gonna be okay. I need to talk to Maria. Buck, would you…” He trailed off, and without another look in Tony’s direction, left the room.

There was silence so thick you could cut it with a knife. The others sent Tony looks that tried hard not to be accusing or pitying or variations of the two, before they made to leave, too.

“What happened to Extremis?” Bruce asked, lingering.

“He… tried to attack me. I shut it down before anything too serious could happen. I’ll reboot in offline mode later.”

Bruce hummed, unconvinced. “I’ll see if I can get JARVIS back online,” he said, sighing deeply as he shuffled out of the room. Before he left, he put a hand on Tony’s shoulder, petting him twice in consolation.

The only one left behind was Barnes.

 _Great_. Tony had long ago stopped fearing the assassin, but the look he gave him now was positively intimidating.

“You know, I’m really not in the mood for another lecture,” Tony said, rubbing at his temple and wincing when he realized he had blood on his fingers. There was a hollow space in his head, as if something was missing. And whenever Tony closed his eyes, trying to access Extremis, well… there was a piercing pain in the crown of his head, and then nothing.

Extremis was broken—there was no way to ignore it any longer. And yet, he couldn’t tell if it was permanently broken, or just temporarily deactivated.

“Maybe that’s your problem. Or one of them,” Barnes said, letting the words linger in the air, and with a sigh, he picked up another cotton swab, winced at the thick smell of antiseptic, and approached Tony tentatively. “Lean toward me and hold still.”

“ _Yeah_ … not sure if I should be doing that.”

Barnes rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a baby.”

“You look about ready to punch me,” Tony commented, but did as he was told, anyway. Probably didn’t have a choice in the matter.

“I’m always ready to punch you.”

“Is that… is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Barnes stepped between Tony’s thighs, giving him an unimpressed look. The left corner of his mouth was twitching, though, or maybe Tony was just hallucinating. “Grab hold of my arm, and squeeze if it stings too bad.”

Tony pursed his lips. It already stung pretty bad when Steve had done it, but he wasn’t about to tell Barnes that.

“You’re a real asshole sometimes, you know that,” Barnes murmured, and dabbed at his nose again. Tony hissed and his hand closed down on his metal arm, capturing him in a tight hold that would have been painful were it anyone but Barnes.

“Thanks.”

“Hold still, if you can.”

“You’ve said that like fifty times. Have I moved?”

Barnes arched a brow. “Now you’re getting testy?” With cool dexterity, he slid the compress over his ears, and leaned back to look at his work. “There. Good as new.”

“Thanks,” Tony said, dabbing at his temple before slumping forwards.

“I think I know why you did it,” Barnes told him after a moment, and when Tony stared up at him once again, he just shrugged. “You want to protect him, I can get behind that. But Steve never took well to being lied to. You of all people should know that by now. How could you think this was a good idea?”

“I didn’t do it because of Steve.” Not _only_ because of Steve, at least. “This was… bigger. Was a matter of priorities. And what is this, anyway? Are you giving me advice on my marriage now?”

Barnes sighed, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “You’re good together, Stark. At least  when you grace him with your presence. Just don’t wanna see the two of you hurt. So stop with the secretive bullshit and talk to the guy.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, two men reassessing the ground that lay between them.

A half-smile cracked across Tony’s face. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

Barnes nodded, obviously not entirely satisfied but resigned that he would get nothing better out of Tony right now. And that was that. He left the room, leaving Tony to his thoughts.

He knew he should follow Barnes’ advice, going right after Steve and begging for forgiveness, but this wasn’t the time right now. Not with Ultron on the loose. And… as long as he didn’t face Steve, he could hope he still had his love. It was better than the alternative. Better than what he had to lose— _everything_.

Those few stolen hours might be all he had left.


	3. Beyond The Sleeping Refuge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have some angst after yesterday's angstfest.
> 
> (This. Movie. Is. Gonna. Ruin. Me.)

 

 

**Steve**

 

 _Goddamn Wakanda_ , Steve thought, when—out of nowhere—something, or _someone_ , socked him right in the jaw, smashing him against the nearest wall so hard he had to stay down for a good few seconds.

He guessed he should’ve known that Tony’s ‘African coast black market arms dealer ( _What, Steve, you meet people at conventions, okay?_ )’–acquaintance turned out to already have made deals with Ultron before they even arrived. He _should’ve_ been prepared for that, but between regrouping, getting information on the Maximoff twins, making rough plans, _and_ following Ultron’s breadcrumbs all the way to Wakanda, there hadn’t been much time to think things through.

And now, here they were: getting simultaneously shot at by Klaue’s goons, Tony’s rogue robots and Ultron himself. And occasionally, Steve was thrown to the floor by Pietro Maximoff doing the rounds on the various levels of the old ship. Things really were going just _splendid_.

“Whatever you’ve said to him on those conventions probably hasn’t sold very well in the long run, Stark,” Bucky said on the comm-lines, making Tony huff in return.

“I didn’t _say_ anything,” Tony intoned, and despite everything that had happened in the last twelve hours, Steve realized how much he’d missed hearing Tony’s real voice on missions instead of Extremis’. He’d gotten used to it, had learned to appreciate the slight variations that robotic voice made whenever Tony was amused or annoyed or angry, but this… this was infinitely better.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t still mad, wasn’t still furious. But in times like these, Steve had learned to cling to the good things, as few or rare as they were.

“We had a couple of drinks if I remember correctly,” Tony added after a moment, his voice casual even as he fought off Ultron’s attacks in the tanker’s upper level. He paused for a moment, then cleared his throat. “I think that's actually how I got my Bahamas island. He lost it to me during a poker game.”

“ _The_  island?” Clint asked with a hitch in his voice. "The one where you guys spent your honeymoon?"

“Maybe?”

Sam snorted. “Only you…”

“There weren’t even any speed boats involved. No cabanas, no tennis court… How should I know he’d hold grudges this long?”

Steve rolled his eyes at the slightly hysterical tone in Tony's voice. As if he'd care how Tony had gotten to his island. As if that dimmed the time they'd spent there after their wedding. As if that could possibly be worse than what Tony had done with Ultron.

“Whatever it was,” Bucky continued, unfazed, “I think it might’ve made him angry.”

“Yeah, ya think so, Elsa?”

“One more time, Stark, I dare you—”

“ _Chatter_ ,” Steve intoned gravely, throwing Tony’s words right back at him. He saw a row of modified Iron Legion suits flying by, and finally managed to get to his feet again, pressing his shield against one robot’s neck until Thor flew by and decapitated it with Mjolnir.

Throwing his shield into the far distance towards three of Klaue’s armed guards, Steve noticed a swift movement right behind him. It was the same sort of air blast that always preceded a punch right to the face. Pietro Maximoff—only this time, Steve saw him coming. He turned around while raising his hand to catch the shield in time, bringing it up and smashing it right into—

Steve stared down at the white haired boy, and he was really only that: a boy. He’d seen him on some screenshots at home, but looking down on him now, he seemed so much younger. He was lying on the floor and looking so stricken as if no one had ever actually caught him before. Which might just be the case. Grabbing the shield, Steve brought it down on his head again, sending him to the floor for good.

“Stay down, kid,” he ordered with a pointed glare, then followed the sounds of shots next to him. He stepped up to Bucky, who was alternately shooting at the bots and simply squishing them with his metal hand. Steve circled him, before he took stance at his six, deflecting the shots aimed at the both of them.

“And here I thought you had all of these complex tactics and strategies going, this looks a bit sloppy, _Captain_ ,” Bucky shouted at him over the noise, but when Steve turned to him, his eyes were practically sparkling with glee.

“I do,” Steve shot back. “But experience shows those are mostly thrown out the window early in the game. Adapting’s the key. You having fun?”

“Hell yeah,” Bucky whooped, taking hold of Steve’s shoulder to hurl himself upward and grab one of the Iron Legion suits, smashing it to the ground. “Thanks for bringing me. If it weren’t for Tasha, I’d say it’s worth going to jail for.”

“You’re not going to jail,” Steve said, swinging a roundhouse kick at two robots flying by, sending them to the wall across the bridge they were standing on. “These are… I’m sure Tony’s lawyers will come up with a fancy name, ‘Circumstances of potentially apocalyptic significance’, or something. You’re needed, it’s an emergency, they have to understand that.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Bucky agreed, grinning madly as he and Steve switched places so he could shoot two of Klaue’s guards, effectively clearing their way to the next level.

When Steve took a step on the stairway, however, he spotted Thor freezing on the level right above the one they were heading for now. There was a familiar red shimmer wafting along his head, and Steve could see his arms flex with inward tension. “Thor!” he called. “Status?”

“The girl tried to warp my mind,” the god answered with a grave voice. “Take special care, I doubt a human could keep her at bay. Fortunately, I… am… mighty…”

Steve had a mind to say something to that, but in the moment he walked up to where he’d seen Thor go, there was another air blast, effectively tackling Bucky and him to the ground. Steve had about a second to throw one of Klaue’s men through the air, before the boy with the white hair ran right into him again, punching him so hard that he flew to the other side of the room and into a stack of rifle crates.

Ah, dammit, this hurt. His head was spinning. “Buck,” he groaned, trying to shake the stupor off, and gaining sight slowly when—

Flecks of red appeared all around his vision. There was something… penetrating… his head, his mind, flowing into his thoughts and… Oh, this couldn’t be good, Steve thought, and the next thing he knew, _a sob sliced through the quiet, and it took him a moment to realize it was his own._ _Every inch of him ached. There was blood in his mouth, trickling down his arms. His legs were taut, yet he could barely stand on his own two feet. There was ash all around him, in the air, and on the ground. He could barely make out the jagged walls of the buildings that had once been New York’s skyline in the darkened streetlights._

_The smell of death was heavy in the air. Steve grimaced, then straightened his back. No time for breaks now. When he squinted, he saw what he had known he’d find in this part of the city all along. Tony stood in the middle of the street, wrapped in a skewed black version of Iron Man, the skyscrapers next to him ruins and not much else. His eyes were a cruel red, as if they’d been turned into molten lava._

_And all around him, there were bodies. Small bodies, larger ones, familiar faces mixed with those of complete strangers. All of them dead. Hundreds of them._

“Whoever’s still standing, we gotta move!” someone called, and the voice was near and yet miles away. When Steve blinked, he had moment when he thought Bucky was kneeling right in front of him, shaking him with hands on both of his shoulders, but before he could snap himself back to reality, he was pulled into the vision again.

_Bravado warred with loyalty in Steve’s mind. He had to do this… had to kill Tony. It was him or everything else. Him or the whole of humanity. And they’d made a promise to each other._

_The smell of blood surrounded him. “There’s evil,” Tony said as he turned around, his red eyes settling on Steve. “In me. Right here. You knew, and you didn’t stop me.”_

_Wetness dripped down Steve’s cheeks and his chest ached. Just looking at Tony hurt. There was no recognition in his face; it was completely blank, devoid of emotion. And even though he knew there was nothing left in Tony, that the man he’d loved was dead either way, he couldn’t kill him. He couldn’t. He was a coward, and Tony was his husband, his everything, and even if it was him or the rest of the world, Steve realized he couldn’t do it._

_And that truly was the worst aspect of it all._

“Guys?” a worried voice asked via the comm line, but there was mostly just white static and garbled feedback. “Is— _static_ —Code— _static_ —Green?”

_“I love you.”_

_Tony smiled with a cruel sort of satisfaction. “Oh, I know. That’s the beauty of it, Captain. The only one able to stop this was too close, and too much in love. Mankind’s greatest weakness is also going to be their downfall.”_

_And in that moment, Steve’s heart embraced the pain. His body embraced the pain. And his soul… his soul embraced the pain, as well, hoping to wash away his biggest sin._

_“Please kill me.”_

Steve jerked awake, limbs twitching and spasming from the effects of his vision. When he came back to himself, he was sitting on the floor of the Quinjet, and he felt a jolt go through him when he saw Tony’s warm, human brown eyes fixated on him intently. The faceplate of Iron Man’s helmet was up, and Tony’s stare was as piercing as it was worried.

“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty,” he whispered, relief taking hold of his features. He gauged Steve’s expression as he raised his hand to cup Steve’s cheek. A huge part of him wanted to lean in, so he wouldn’t have to crush the fragile hope on Tony’s face, but the vision was still too vivid, too close to his heart, and he needed some space right now, or he’d go insane.

So instead of letting Tony touch him, he leaned back against the wall, pressing his eyes closed. He raised his knees, setting his forehead on top of it, and tried to calm down. The vision haunted every corner of his mind, as though he was bleeding internally for every one of the lives Tony had taken in this… nightmare.

And it was just that, he told himself firmly. A nightmare. A vision. It had been the Maximoff girl messing with them, rationally speaking, he _knew_ that, and yet…

_Too close, and too much in love._

There was silence for a long second, and Steve couldn’t move, couldn’t say anything. Then, he heard Tony take a shaky breath and walk away.

And Steve sat like that, aware of the others talking quietly around him. He heard Bucky and Tony say something about damage limitation, bringing in the Stark Relief Foundation, and funding of repair works and fixes on the Hulkbuster. When Steve looked over to Bruce, who sat in a dark corner of the Quinjet and looked to be on the verge of crying, he put two and two together. It was his job to comfort his team in a situation like this, but his limbs felt heavy, he couldn’t form a clear thought, and all Steve could do was lean back and stare into the distance.

Rain pelted against the hard glass of the Quinjet, flattening into thick rivulets of clear water running down and across the thick panes. The multicolored flight lights flared and swirled in blinking patterns, brightening the otherwise gloomy sky outside.

Memories flooded Steve’s mind, laced with regret. He’d thought that those next weeks would be filled with love, laughter, and family, that he and Tony could finally have some days just for themselves. And he’d thought, foolishly, that he would have time to really try to grasp what having a kid would mean for him—and for them as a couple. It was a scary, huge commitment, and he simply hadn’t been sure if this was the kind of life he wanted. He’d decided to weigh all those pros and cons with Tony first, maybe to talk with Bucky about it, too, and instead, he was here, heading into yet another war. JARVIS was gone, maybe for good, and his husband was as far away from him since their first encounter years ago.

How was it that they always ended up in so much pain when all they wanted to do was love each other?

A sob escaped Steve’s lips, the sound mercifully unnoticed by the others. The comm at his ear buzzed insistently and he ignored it, tempted to switch off the damned thing. He knew the others tried to connect with him, but Steve didn’t want to hear it. Twice more the device buzzed and the third time, he grabbed it and broke it down the middle.

Next to Steve, Clint’s eyes widened, and Steve could hear the sound of something hitting the floor hard.

“Guys, come on…” Clint said, clearing his throat, but Steve held up a hand to stop him.

“Not your business,” he reminded him.

“Yeah, trust me, I wouldn’t touch that with a pole right now. No, I…” He sighed, standing up in the middle of the cockpit, looking at each of them. “I know this isn’t the best time to say this, but… Remember when, uh, when the shit with Pierce went down how I told you that there’s stuff I wouldn’t tell either of you?”

Steve blinked, the memory a bit fuzzy, and nodded. “Yeah?”

Clint grimaced. “Well, there’s something about Laura I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now…”

 

* * *

 

The sun was barely breaking the horizon when the Quinjet circled over the small forest, searching for a landing spot. Tony refused to look at any of the others, especially avoiding Steve’s eyes, as he opened the rear hatch and stepped out onto moist grass.

“A farm,” Tony commented, once they’d walked past the few trees, the landscape giving way for a huge house a few dozen yards away. “You live in a farm. Barn, tractor, little vegetable garden, the whole nine yards.”

“Yeah,” Clint confirmed, his tone light and obviously very happy to be back. It was written all over his face.

“You have a _family_ in a _farm_ ,” Tony stated, his tone incredulous as he rubbed a hand over his forehead. “Laura’s your _wife_. Why did you even pretend to live with us?”

“Tower’s my bachelor pad for all the awesome secret superhero-action,” Clint explained. “Never wondered where I went for all those weeks in-between?”

Tony shrugged. “Thought you flew south, like all those other little birds.”

“Hardy har, Stark,” Clint shot back, rolling his eyes.

Steve frowned, following them slowly. Only then, Clint’s words had registered with him. Laura wasn’t Clint’s new girlfriend, but very much his wife he’d been married to for nearly a decade.

A _decade_.

“And Laura… Doesn’t she… mind?”

“Laura’s completely badass,” Clint said, but there was an undertone to his voice and Steve had a feeling it wasn’t all as easy as Clint tried to make it. He clapped a hand down on Tony’s shoulders before jogging down the slight slope towards the building.

Tony snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “How did he have a family the whole time and we didn’t notice?”

“Some people are better at keeping secrets than others,” Steve murmured as he followed Clint’s path through the high grass, the others trailing close behind. Bucky was cradling Natasha in his arms, her eyes distant, her stance hunched, and Steve could only guess what horrors the Maximoff girl had shown her. Thor seemed to be more troubled than shaken, and as for Bruce… there was something still slightly feral in his gaze, something that hadn’t been there for a whole long while.

At the end of the day, however, Steve mostly thanked the heavens that Bucky hadn’t been thrown back into his own nightmare… That would’ve been disastrous on top of everything else.

Tony huffed. “Are we back to being passive-aggressive? I thought we had a talk-beats-bullshit rule.”

“Damn right we had,” Steve shot back, not even minding to keep the anger out of his voice.

There was a beat of silence, followed by a heavy sigh on Tony’s part. “Please let us talk about this,” he asked, his voice quiet and with a sigh of his own, Steve came to a halt, and turned around where Tony now stood a few meters behind him. “I want to explain.”

“I thought you already did,” Steve answered bitterly, as soon as the others were out of hearing range.

“Not very well, obviously.”

“What? You thought that explaining that it was necessary and we were all just too dumb to understand it was going to make me feel better?”

Tony winced and raised his hands in a placating gesture. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what _did_ you mean?”

“I saw… that this was what we’d need,” he replied. “Doesn’t matter if what the Maximoff girl showed me was real, I _knew_ it was our future. The scepter gave me a one-time chance, and I know this went horribly wrong, but the thought behind it is still the right thing to do. And there simply wasn’t any time for having one of your little group debates.”

“Goddammit, Tony!” Steve shouted, his tone hard. “That is exactly the problem! ‘One of my little group debates’? Is that really something you find so ridiculous? That I would like to be let in on things beforehand and not have a psychotic robot suddenly try to kill me in the middle of a party?!”

Tony grimaced. “No. It’s not ridiculous… I didn’t—”

Steve heaved a great breath, his hands curling into fists at his side. “You’ve been shutting me out, whether you like to admit it or not. You got lost in Extremis, a little more every day. And you think so highly of what that virus can do or what it knows that you don’t even think it’s necessary to talk to me about these things anymore.”

“I didn’t have the time!” Tony protested. “And Extremis is a constant presence, that doesn’t mean I get lost in it. I got it under control, and whenever I’m with you, I’m _with_ you, we talked about this!”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “That’s not how it felt to me.”

“Steve…”

Steve threw up his hands. “I don’t know—I don’t know what to make of this. It feels like you don’t trust me at all, and I can’t think straight right now. I just need a breather.”

Tony’s eyebrows went up in alarm. “A _breather_?”

Steve sighed. “Not like that,” he amended, trying to gentle his expression a bit. “Just a few hours to clear my head.”

“The Maximoff girl really got to you, huh?” Tony asked quietly. “Darling, do you need to talk—”

“No,” Steve said firmly. “Not right now.” And with that, he turned and headed for the farm house, leaving Tony staring after him.

 

* * *

 

Clint’s living room looked so… _lived-in_.

The thought had drifted through Steve’s mind often in the last couple of hours. How the furniture was in different stages of dinged-up, which only made the room feel all the more homey. There were books, and flowers, and all those photographs showing Clint with his family throughout their lives. Kids clothes were strewn around, apple juice bottles and cups of tea littered the couch table, and piles of paper, drawing pencils and crayons teetered on the dinner table, where Steve was currently busy coloring some butterfly with Lila Barton.

Coloring butterflies, as it turned out, was a nice change of pace. Ever since he’d set foot in Clint’s home, greeting Laura and the kids, the tension between Tony and him had only grown. Ignoring him during a smaller fight was tiresome enough, but ignoring Tony’s troubled gaze _now_ —ignoring the little twitches of his hands, and the way his lips were forming a thin line whenever Steve said something—it was absolutely exhausting.

Only when Tony left to grab a shower upstairs, Steve had managed to relax a little.

“Yellow?” Lila asked with an unsure voice, pointing to the last white spot on the butterfly’s wing.

Steve nodded, as he reached for the yellow pencil. “Good choice,” he agreed and handed it over to her. “The circle there is right in the middle of the picture,” he explained. “Artists call it the ‘focal point’, you don’t always need it, but in this case, it’ll pull the viewer’s eye right into it when you give it a bright color. Yellow’s always a good way to do it.”

Lila beamed as she started to paint, and Steve forced a small smile to his lips. He leaned back a little, and let his eyes drift across the room once more.

He had genuinely no idea where Thor had gone, but the rest of the team was mingling around. Sam and Bucky were gathered around the couch area, Natasha was standing next to Bruce by one of the windows, a hand comfortably clasped on his shoulder, and talking to him in a low voice. Laura and Clint were standing in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner. They looked completely in sync together, always touching and smiling and obviously being very relieved to have each other back. Ever so often, Clint would put a hand on Laura’s pregnant belly, and the look on his face was something Steve had never seen on him before. It hurt to look at them, in some way, reminding Steve very much of how things should be and how they decidedly weren’t.

When Steve looked up again, Tony was slowly walking down the stairs. He looked terribly lost when he saw all of the others in their respective groups, with seemingly no place where he was welcome right now. Though Steve genuinely had no idea what to say to him, he was unable to bear it and was just about to call Tony over to the dinner table, when Clint’s son Cooper beat him to it.

Holding up a huge remote control airplane with both hands, he stepped up next to Tony. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes were big and round with expectation.

Tony frowned in that ‘I see you want something from me but I have no idea what it is’ kind of way he often did, and said, “You alright there, buddy?“

Cooper, biting his lower lip, shook his head, only raising the plane a little higher, and that finally seemed to do the trick. “Nice plane you got there,” Tony said, crouching down in front of Cooper. “Want me to take a look?“

The boy nodded and gave him the plane. It was only when Tony turned it around in his hands, that Steve realized that one of the wings seemed to be broken. Tony inspected it with just as much concentration as he sported whenever he tinkered with the Iron Man suits, and Steve couldn't hold back a small smile when Tony hummed in pointed consideration, rubbing his chin.

“It can’t fly anymore,” Cooper whispered with a note of infinite sadness in his voice. “’s not just the wing, the engine’s broken, too.”

Tony nodded gravely, like he truly understood how severe the situation was, and said, “Don’t worry, that’s an easy fix. Did you want me to do it?”

Cooper nodded shyly. “Daddy said you would.”

Tony snorted, glancing up at Clint who only poked his tongue out at him. “Alright. How about we fix it together?”

Soon after, Tony and Cooper were found sitting in front of the fireplace, super glue and a few more tools Steve doubted were safe for children placed on the floor next to them. Ever so often, Steve looked over and felt a deep yearning coil around his heart. Tony looked so _comfortable_ , smiling and making jokes every other minute. Naturally, the two had fixed the wing in no time, and while Steve wasn’t wholly sure he understood what Tony was doing, he had a feeling he was already fine-tuning the engine by now. All the while, Tony explained things in a low voice, occasionally handing Cooper a screwdriver so he could put the various parts back together.

Eventually, Tony lifted the plane in the air, inspecting it before handing it over to Cooper. “There, better than ever.”

The boy gingerly took it and smiled at him. “Thank you.”

Looking at his clock, Tony said matter-of-factly, “Yeah, well. That’s about one hour of my time. You’re Clint’s son, so you’re getting a good price, say, two hundred bucks?”

Cooper’s eyes went wide.

“Or hot cocoa,” Tony amended with a crooked grin. “I would accept that, but only if you’ve got marshmallows.”

“What are those?” Cooper asked distractedly, while staring at his plane with glee.

“Marshmallows? It’s… mostly sugar, very unhealthy, will probably keep you up all night. How have you never heard of marshmallows before?”

“What are they for?”

Tony raised his brows. “The hot cocoa you’re going to make me, haven’t you been paying attention?”

“Why?”

Tony sighed. “Because you obviously can’t have hot chocolate without marshmallows.”

Cooper grinned. “Why?”

“Oh my God, kiddo, it’s the law, okay?”

“Says who?”

“The Hot Cocoa President,” Tony explained long-suffering, but his voice was all amusement, as he guided Cooper into the kitchen with him. Steve had to fight back a grin when Cooper only raised an unimpressed eyebrow, the expression on his face painfully familiar, and crossed his tiny arms in front of his chest.

“Daddy doesn’t let me eat sweets after seven o’clock.”

Tony’s eyes widened and he neared Cooper with a grin that spoke of all kinds of mischief. “He will make an exception today because your airplane now has double charge time, can do about every stunt you can think of, and just increased its worth by a good five hundred dollars, right, _Daddy?_ ”

“Yeeaah,” Clint drawled, clapping a hand on Cooper’s shoulder and already pressing two steaming mugs in Tony’s hands. “Guess Uncle Tony is right about that, buddy.”

“I think you’re lying about the Hot Cocoa President,” Cooper observed as he sipped from his mug.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I think you ask too many questions.” Tony’s brows quirked in jest, a smile tickling his lips. “That a yes to marshmallows, Cooper-o?”

“Yeah.” Cooper studied him for a long minute before his eyes sparkled. “You’re funny, Uncle Tony.”

“I know,” Tony returned and glanced at Steve, a shadow cast over his outwardly amused expression. “I’m a real comedian.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky was looking at him with a strange expression. He’d just picked up another log, raising his axe to split it in half. “So, when are we doing this?”

“Doing what?” Steve asked, as he stared at the cloudy sky. It was already late afternoon, and they had no idea where to go from here on. And Thor still hadn’t returned.

It wasn’t that he was intentionally avoiding Tony, just… being in the same room with him felt a lot like someone choking him with both hands. He _loved_ Tony, he did, and the fact that he wasn’t able to console him, to simply forgive him and move on, was breaking his heart whenever he so much as looked at him.

It had taken a single glance at Bucky and half a minute later, they’d stepped outside, and the fresh air along with splitting log after log in half was doing wonders to his mind.

“Chase down Ultron and pull out his power pack,” Bucky explained. “The sooner we start on that, the better, right? Don’t exactly see the point of making firewood right now.”

Steve sighed. “We… need a break to get back on track. No sense in barging in unprepared right now. We have to regroup, clean up a bit, grab a few hours of sleep. If Thor hasn’t returned by morning, we’ll make our move without him.”

Bucky hummed, quiet while he chopped another wood log.

“You’re coming with us?” Steve asked. He’d thought Bucky might, but he hadn’t wanted to count on it, and he pushing him felt wrong.

“Do you want me to?” Bucky asked evasively. “Wasn’t sure you trusted me in the field, yet.”

Steve smiled faintly. “’course I do. Having you at my six is great. Like in the old times.”

“I still get triggered.”

“Barely.”

“One time could be enough to cause real trouble and you know that.”

“We’re already in ‘real trouble’, if you haven’t noticed. And anyway, you snap out of it all by yourself. I trust you, we all do, whether you like it or not—and the team needs you now.”

“Steve…”

“ _I_ need you. Especially now. Please, Buck.”

A smile played around the corners of Bucky’s mouth. “Alright. Count me in, then.”

They worked in silence for a bit, before Bucky cleared his throat, “Is Stark okay?”

Steve stopped, sighed. “Probably not.”

“And you? I know that girl got into your head, too, and Nat’s still as shaken as I’ve ever seen her. You know those punks are just trying to mess with us, right?”

“Yeah, I know. Got it under control,” Steve replied, trying to sound put together. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t show the terror he’d felt upon seeing Wanda Maximoff’s vision, or the anxiety that still plagued him at the thought of Ultron controlling Tony via Extremis. As ridiculous as it sounded, he couldn’t quite get over the thought that they might not have much time left, and if that was the case, Steve didn’t want anything more to come between them. Saying it out loud would make it another problem.

“Steve.” Bucky’s voice was quiet, and he put a gentle hand on his arm. “You’re both going to be fine.”

He took a shuddering breath. “Not so sure about that.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Bucky’s hand wandered to his shoulder, and he moved towards him, pulling Steve into a firm hug. They stood like that for a long, silent moment.

Steve released a long breath and settled into Bucky’s embrace. “Thanks.”

“It helps to have someone to lean on occasionally,” was all Bucky said.

“It does,” Steve agreed, more calmly. “There are times I miss Peggy for that.”

“Thought you visited her regularly?”

“Not recently.” Steve sighed. “She got worse, and then we were too busy with…” He trailed off, looking at the ground, as he pulled back eventually.

Bucky winced. “Me. Yeah, I know.”

It was odd to think that Peggy’s death might be just around the corner. “She won’t be alone, you know. When it happens.” Bucky smiled at him. “You said it yourself: Pegs got a whole family, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, lots of people who love her.”

“I know.” Steve returned his smile with gratitude. “Thank you.”

They went back to chopping wood in companionable silence, with Steve feeling much less alone than he had just a short time before.

The front door of the farm house opened, and Tony stepped outside, looking a little frazzled. He turned around, then fixated Bucky with his eyes. “Got news for you, Frosty.”

Bucky squared his shoulders, obviously bracing himself for the worst. “What?”

“Maria sent a message. Someone called off the government squad for now.” Tony smiled grimly. “Looks like you’ve got friends in places we all didn’t know about.”

Bucky blinked. “So the government isn’t coming after me?”

“That’s what I just said, right?” Tony asked. “Apparently your file has been dubbed ‘Supervision Suspended’ by some unknown parties. Government’s throwing a fit, but there’s not much they can do, the documents are sound, no traces of any hacker, so you’ve been cleared for the time being. Doesn’t mean they’ll let you go on missions afterwards. In fact, I’m sure they’re gonna revoke it as soon as they can, but for now, you can consider yourself one of the team.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “Gonna have to make it count then.”

Tony shrugged, and glanced at Steve. “Yeah.” His face softened slightly as he stared back at the ground. “Yeah, make it count.” He cleared his throat, calling over his shoulder as he turned around. “You two should get inside, by the way, we got a surprise visitor you might wanna see.”

 

* * *

 

Despite his lack of sleep, Steve felt strangely alert. Too alert to go to bed—at the least that was the excuse he was going for right now.

He sat in the darkened kitchen, staring empty-handed down at the table, every now and then flexing his fingers with the blind expectation that Tony would appear at his side and he could take hold of his hand.

God, but he felt empty.

The conversation with Fury sat heavy on his mind. He had turned up sometime before dinner, basically telling everyone to get their asses out of the gutter and back in the game. Steve hadn’t missed the pointed look he’d given both Steve and Tony, just as he hadn’t missed the quiet talk Fury had had with Tony in the back of the living room afterwards.

_Ultron says the Avengers are the only thing between him and his mission. So stand. Outwit the platinum bastard._

That was easy to say from his standpoint, Steve figured, but true nevertheless. They had to put aside all those other issues for now, and stand as a united force. It really was their only hope.

Silently, Steve had acknowledged that Tony would have to go to Oslo all by himself, while he and the others were heading towards Seoul to check on Helen Cho, and no matter what was going on between them right now, he hated the fact that they’d have to go separate ways. In dire times like these, he didn’t handle it well whenever Tony wasn’t at his side.

What if this was exactly Ultron’s plan? Separating Tony from the rest of the group?

He knew there was no other choice, though. Tony would need to visit the internet hub, find out who their anonymous ally was, and Steve had to stop Ultron from building himself a body with the vibranium he’d stolen from Wakanda. They’d just have to trust that they’d both come out on the other side unhurt.

Soon after dinner, Laura presented her plan for sleeping arrangements. Honestly, Steve was just very grateful that she was housing ten guests at once, and when she’d asked if she could double up Steve and Tony, neither of them had disagreed. Everyone left the living room soon after, and since Fury was taking the couch, Steve had sat down at the kitchen table, staring down onto his left hand, where his wedding ring glistened in the dim light.

The scent of hot chocolate warmed the air. “You know… you gotta sleep sometime,” Clint said when he sat down across from him, placing a mug in front of Steve’s hands. “Cause if you don’t sleep, Tony won’t either. I’m pretty sure the guy will play a pivotal role when we locate Ultron, and I swear to God I will kill you both if I die because the two of you didn’t get your shit together. You haven’t slept in, what, two days?”

“Just about,” Steve agreed, smiling tiredly. “I’m sorry we’re making you guys uneasy.”

“Nah, it’s okay, stuff happens. Guess we’re just not used to Mommy and Daddy fighting. You and Tony are the strongest… assets we have, Thor aside, maybe. You can’t quit on us now. Can’t defeat a murder robot with a bow and arrow, Cap.”

Steve’s mouth perked, his eyes dropping to the brown liquid swirling in the ceramic mug. Never had hot chocolate seemed less appealing.

“You know…” Clint started, clearing his throat. “I lied to Laura a lot, in the beginning. Figured she didn’t need to know all the nasty details of the job. Made her hella angry. Took us a long time to figure out how to be honest with each other.”

Steve sighed. “I know what you wanna say, and I appreciate it, but this is between Tony and me.”

“He loves you.”

Another sigh, this one of resignation. “I _know_ that,” he said, flexing his shoulders. “Love has never been our problem. His tendency to think he knows better is, followed closely by his conviction that I won’t listen to any of his ideas. Don’t know how often I told him to run these things by me first. I promised to hear him out no matter what, and yet…” He waved at the air around them, smiling tiredly. “Here we are.”

“But you wouldn’t have agreed on this,” Clint pointed out, raising his hand in defense when Steve glared at him. “Hey, I’m not saying you would’ve been _wrong_ to disagree. Tony fucked up with Ultron, big time, we all know that, but… try seeing it from his point of view? If he genuinely thought this was his only chance at saving us—I mean, after the mess today, you do realize that Wanda Maximoff probably got to him first, right? In Sokovia? If he was so adamant on building a world peacekeeping program, then you can imagine how bad that vision must’ve been… You saw him after, the guy wasn’t in his right mind. Probably still isn’t.”

Steve frowned, staring down at his hands still cradling his mug. He remembered how closed-off Tony had seemed after they’d returned home from Sokovia. The shaking of his hands. Of course the girl must have gotten to him in that bunker, showing him his own kind of nightmare. He felt stupid for not realizing that earlier. Of course he would’ve tried everything in his power to keep whatever horror he’d been shown from happening.

“One more reason he should’ve talked to me,” Steve murmured, rubbing his temples. “But yeah… I guess I know where he was coming from.”

Clint hummed in agreement, then bit his lower lip. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Laura and the kids. I know we promised to be honest with each other.”

“Don’t be. I get it. You wanna protect them, keep them out of trouble. I understand that.”

“Exactly.” Clint stood up again, petting Steve’s shoulder with a smug smile. “Now do yourself a favor and judge your man by the same standards?”

It took a moment for Steve to replay the last bit of the conversation, then he rolled his eyes. “I told you it’s not the same, You really don’t know when to let it go, do you?”

“Did I ever?” Clint asked and grinned. “Sooo, now that I’ve clearly saved your marriage: No sex in my house, you hear me, Cap? Thin walls, impressionable children, and Laura actually likes her sheets and I would hate having to burn them.”

That got a laugh from Steve, and he finally nipped at the hot chocolate, nodding. “I’ll try to keep my hands to myself.”

“It’s not you I’m worr—Hey, whatcha doing there, Lila-Pila?"

Steve frowned at that, and only realized that Clint’s daughter had come down the stairway, when he turned around. Clint leaned casually in the doorway, folding his arms over his chest as he looked down at the little brown-haired girl.

She merely smiled brightly. “Hi, daddy.”

“What are you doing out of bed, baby? It’s way past your time.”

“Brushing Natasha’s hair,” Lila said, holding up a little redheaded doll.

Clint nodded, like this happened often, taking a few steps towards the little girl. “Why, she having a date tonight?”

“No, Natasha and Rex are getting married,” she said, lifting the doll in the air, followed closely by some stuffed dinosaur she’d jammed beneath her armpit.

Clint chuckled. “Ohh… big thing, huh?”

“Uh uh.”

There was a humming sound, then Clint picked Lila up, a small squeal filling the air, as he held her with her upper body all but slung over his shoulder. “How about we go upstairs and you tell me all about Tasha’s wedding, guest list, cake choice, music, flower arrangement, don’t leave any detail out.”

“Let me down, daddy!” she yelled, though she was really more laughing, her little body swaying from side to side as the two of them walked up the stairs.

“Yeah, not gonna happen,” Clint just said, holding his daughter with one hand while he pointed at Steve. “Say ‘Good night, Cap’.”

“Good night, Cap!” Lila intoned, giggling.

Steve followed them with his eyes before waving as well. “Good night,” he murmured, smiling into the darkness.

 

* * *

 

When Steve finally stepped into the bedroom, he felt as though he was walking into a tomb. The upper part of Clint’s house was so quiet, he could almost hear the dust fall behind him as he moved. There was a very persistent pain in his gut—a strange combination of both sadness, and the beginnings of familiar pangs of separation. It really only had been that one day, since he and Tony had been close, but it already felt as if he hadn’t touched him in a lifetime. And Steve had never coped well with being apart from Tony too long.

Tony seemed to be already fast asleep, lying on a thin bed sheet on the ground, the one-man bed next to him untouched. And every second of standing in the doorway, staring down on the sleeping form, Steve hurt just a little more.

It was a battle of wills with them. Always had been. And yet, this was something entirely different. Tony had shoved him to a corner. Trying to do something for him by lying right to his face. And he _must_ have known the risks. Not Ultron going rogue, of course, but Tony was a genius at heart. He must have been reciting the risks to himself since the second he’d taken the scepter into his hand. He must have known it could come down to this.

And with that, he must have also accepted that it could lead to this very moment when Steve would stand meters apart from him.

Steve remembered all those nights when he and Tony had been too involved in each other to even notice that the outside world existed. When Steve’s arms had been perpetually locked around Tony’s body and their lips had been glued to each other’s… when it would have taken an apocalypse or worse to drive them apart. And despite it all, he longed for that.

 _Too close, too much in love._ It was true, and… Ultron’s words haunted him. Fake vision or not, he’d been wrong about one thing. It wasn’t a weakness, no. It might just be their greatest strength.

Steve glanced at the arc reactor’s light dimmed by the thin bedsheet draped around Tony’s body and kneeled down next to him. He could hear Tony murmur words in his sleep, gulping in the stale air as though his lungs were fighting for life. He was probably uncomfortable, here on that hard floor, and Steve considered carrying him over to the bed for a moment, but eventually decided against it. If Tony woke up now—Steve wouldn’t know what to say to him.

Instead, he lay down on the floor as well, settling in right behind Tony. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t want to drape his whole self around him, and he wouldn’t. Pressing a kiss onto Tony’s neck, Steve wrapped his arms around him tightly. Gently, he picked up one of Tony’s hands, and lightly kissed each knuckle before placing both of their hands, palm down, onto the arc reactor.

“I love you,” Steve whispered against Tony’s ear, because that was the one thing that was undoubtedly still true. Then, he closed his eyes.

Tony murmured something in return, but didn’t wake. His heart rate slowed down, his breaths evening out, and deep inside Steve’s mind, a decision was forming.

This was his marriage, and he wouldn’t stand for it to fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to morphia for betareading <3


	4. Shadowed Rapture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, life's been busy. Hope this makes up for the wait :)

 

**Tony**

 

It was still dark outside when Tony woke up, and he had a hard time remembering why he, a forty-six year old man, had deemed it a good idea to lie down on a goddamn hardwood floor. His back hurt, his neck was stiff, and there was a weight on his waist and another across his legs. Then he remembered. He was lying in one of the guest rooms in Clint’s farm, and he’d had his reasons for not using the bed. Reasons that… hadn’t been reasons at all, seeing as how Steve had apparently joined him on the floor last night, instead of using the actual sleeping surface.

Realizing that, Tony opened his eyes all the way. That weight on his waist was an arm that was wrapped around his middle and his legs were somehow tangled in Steve’s. They were spooned together tightly on the floor, a thin white blanket draped over their bodies.

Tony quietly inched over a little bit so he could turn his head and study Steve’s face. He was still asleep; his deep, even breathing causing his chest to rise and fall steadily. His tousled blond hair had fallen across his eyes, but otherwise, he looked peaceful… at rest. The moonlight played across the planes of Steve’s face and Tony couldn’t resist tracing a finger across his cheekbones, following its path.

_I would do anything to keep you safe,_ Tony thought quietly. He turned around then, trying not to move too much. Lying down face to face, he pressed himself as close to Steve as was possible without waking him. Each minute, the proximity eased his fear and hurt a little. The bitter feeling in his gut diminished, pushed aside by the comfort the man sleeping at his side gave him.

Steve stirred soon after. He rubbed his eyes, a sleepy and confused look crossing his face when he caught Tony watching him. “Good morning.”

Tony cast him a hesitant smile. “Not really morning yet.”

“Right,” Steve whispered, eyes flickering to the window before settling on Tony again.

“Thought it was a dream first,” Tony admitted quietly. “Waking up in your arms.”

“If it’s a dream, we’re sharing it.” Instead of drawing away, as Tony had expected, Steve burrowed closer into the embrace, pulling him near against his chest. “So stop talking before it wakes us up.”

Tony’s eyes searched his face. “Did you get any rest at all?” He reached up to gently stroke the arm draped around him. “I know you were tired, that’s why I wanted you to have the bed…”

Steve was still for a moment. Sighing, he said, “Too much on my mind, anyway. And I didn’t want to sleep alone.”

For minutes, they stayed quiet, and the only movement was the steady and rhythmic heaving of their chests, and the small brushes of Tony’s thumb on Steve’s arm.

“I missed you,” Tony said after a moment, letting those words linger in the air between them.

“There were times we fought much longer than this,” Steve reminded him.

_Not like this_ , Tony thought to himself. He’d felt it, almost palpable—the way the strong bond they’d formed within those last years had been on the verge of getting torn apart.

And therefore, one day might as well have been years he’d spent without Steve. He hadn’t just missed him while they were apart, he’d felt the longing so intensely strong it amounted to physical pain. For one day, he’d lived in the fear of Steve’s abandonment, and now that he welcomed him back into his embrace—Tony felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude and relief.

The room was gray with overcast moonlight. One of Steve’s hands was in his hair, rubbing his sore head very gently.

“This is nice,” Tony said after a moment of quiet, trailing one hand down to Steve’s hip to pull them flush against one another.

Steve hummed in agreement, then, miraculously, one side of his mouth quirked upwards. “Clint said we’re not allowed to have sex in here.”

A breathy laugh left Tony’s lips. “You’re saying sex’s on the table again?”

“Never said it was _off_ the table,” Steve mumbled, then sighed heavily. “I’m just… I’m still so angry with you.”

“Yeah, I know.” He dropped his eyes a little. “And you have every right to be. I was arrogant, thinking I could understand something as complex as the scepter’s matrix in just a few days.”

“You’re not arrogant,” Steve whispered. “You wanted to do good. The Maximoff girl played you, sure, the vision forcing you into action. And maybe it blindsided you into taking risks you wouldn’t have on a normal day, but your intentions were undeniably good. I see that now.”

Tony bit his lower lip, feeling the familiar stab of guilt. He didn’t think he’d ever be completely free of it again—no matter how much time went by, or how much good he managed to do. “You don’t have to make excuses for me.”

“I’m not making excuses,” Steve said steadily. “You let your fear of losing someone rule you, that’s human. That’s something I can forgive, but… Tony, we need to start talking about these things. You need to let me in on your plans.”

Tony remained quiet, then whispered, “You’re right.”

There was a long beat of quiet, before Steve spoke up again, his voice very serious. “Clint implied that you thought I wouldn’t have listened to you…”

“You wouldn’t have,” Tony said, not unkindly, then cleared his throat. “And to be fair, it wasn’t anything you could have reasonably agreed to—not anything we could have discussed by looking at pros and cons. It was… the logical conclusion of everything that has happened to us so far, a look into the future, if you will. The Chitauri was just the beginning when it comes to us against an infinity of otherworldly threats, and I _knew_ this was our only chance at getting prepared for things coming our way…” He heaved a great breath, unsure if he really should be voicing those words, but that was what their argument was all about, right? “And if you want me to be honest with you… No matter what happened with Ultron, that didn’t change. I still think it’s the right thing to do. And if I had the resources, I’d try again right now.”

Steve stared at him, visibly taken aback, but Tony pressed on. “It’s us and it’s the universe out there. And we have limits, no matter how much we train, how much we prepare.”

“There is no other option—”

“There _has_ to be.”

Steve visibly reined his frustration in, his voice trying to stay even. “I know we’re not perfect, Tony, but the safest hands are still our own. I don’t see how—”

“This is not about ‘how’, it’s about ‘when’. Once we fail, there’s no second line of defense, only a freefall towards Doomsday, you realize that, don’t you?”

Steve swallowed. “And what’s your alternative?” he asked. “You saw what happened with Ultron, you’re not supposed to play God. There’s no way to tell what trying again would do. It could end the world early.”

“That’s just it, though. The world is going to end anyway, unless we can find a way to stock up our defenses. I might not be able to undo my failure with Ultron, but I know our only hope is in creating something powerful enough to oppose him.”

Steve hesitated, searching his face. “You’re sure about this.”

“Yes.”

It took something close to an eternity, but eventually, Steve released a soft breath. “Just promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“If it comes down to it, if you find a way to give this a second try, let me be there with you.” Steve met his eyes steadily. “In case you need backup.”

Tony nodded. “If I can, I will.”

Steve moved again, pulling Tony nearer once more. “You know I always trust you to do the right thing.”

Tony stared up at him, surprised when a choked sob crossed his lips. Steve had always had the power to drag out of him what Tony so desperately tried to suppress. Things buried so deep he hadn’t even realized they were plaguing him until Steve came and made it better. In seconds, he had exposed the most barren scrapings of his heart with no more than his assurance. His assurance that warmed Tony in ways that he could never fully comprehend.

“Sweetheart,” Steve prompted when he noticed Tony’s face fall. His mouth covered Tony’s then, and Tony felt fingertips brush across his chest, across his heart, as if Steve was trying to pull out the hurt. And it felt—it felt as if it was working.

“I thought I’d lose you for good,” Tony whispered.

Steve pressed another kiss onto the crown of Tony’s head. “No,” he said. “I’m sorry I made you worry so much.”

“Are you even happy?”

Steve blinked, pulled back. “What?”

“We’ve been together for almost three years now. Are you still happy? Crazy murder robots aside, I know I work too much, and I know Extremis bothers you, and I just… can’t stop wondering if you still want this.”

Steve frowned and the fierce look he gave him shook Tony down to his core. “Do you love me, Tony?”

That drew his attention away. “Do I—? You know that I do. I—”

“And I love you. As long as that is still true, we can work out everything else, easy as that.” A gentle smile crossed his face. “Life doesn’t give you second chances without reason. We’re probably on our sixth by now, that’s gotta count for something. And don’t doubt for a second that you’re making me happy, because you do. Every single day.”

“Crazy murder bots and all?”

That got a small huff. “Yeah _…_ God help me, crazy murder bots and all.”

Tony smiled and leaned in. Very softly, they kissed, their lips barely touching and yet Tony felt himself melting against Steve as though he couldn’t contain himself.

“I do love you. So much,” he said when he pulled back, Steve’s gaze was so direct it was startling.

_He loves me. He does._

His blue eyes were so close, Tony could have counted his lashes. It took him a moment to remember that there was something he’d meant to tell Steve as the two of them had a moment of quiet.

“There’s something we need to talk about.” With that, Tony sat up, and with a little prompting, Steve let him go, rolling on his back instead. Tony mourned the lost closeness immediately, but stood up nevertheless.

“What is it?” Steve asked, frowning as he followed Tony’s movements with his eyes.

Tony stretched his poor old limbs, then squatted down in front of his jacket, which he’d carelessly thrown to the ground earlier. After fishing out a small paper card, he turned it back and forth for a handful of times, gauging the best way to do this.

That was one of those conversations he’d hoped to delay as long as possible.

 

* * *

 

Tony found it always a bit worrisome how simply their plans to save the world were crafted, outlined, and executed. After Fury’s arrival and their short naptime, it was now close to morning, and there were only a few last moments to spare until they’d all leave the farm. He would take the suit and fly to Oslo while Steve and the others would stop Ultron from building himself a new body. That’d be that… And all they could do was hope to see each other again afterwards.

Steve’s plan was good, no question—nearly infallible with everyone’s cooperation, and that was what made Tony nervous. They were always relying greatly on absolutes, and he couldn’t help reciting all those other possibilities.

All those alternatives that could mean he’d lose everything.

The others were still inside the farmhouse, dressing and gearing up and discussing last details. Bucky seemed to be thrilled being at the heart of Steve’s plan, while Natasha, Sam and Clint had quietly left the room to get into their uniforms. Thor was still off literally doing god-knows-what. Bruce had not really talked to him since the party at the Tower, but Steve had assured him that Big Green was in on the game plan. He was probably just gun-shy about seeing Tony after their one-on-one in Wakanda.

Tony, for his part, was alone in Clint’s barn. He stood in the shadows, silently tinkering with the old tractor, fixing something for a change while he waited for the go to fly off. He reached into the lapels of his jacket in habitual search for his favorite red screwdriver, then leaned down and loosened the screws of the engine hood. The dark green tractor was an antique, and usually, he enjoyed working on old machines, but today, his heart wasn’t in it.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps filtered through, followed by arms wrapping around his waist. Steve’s scent enveloped him, and he pulled Tony to his chest as though he was his lifeline, his hands drawing artless patterns of warm affection across his arms.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss into Tony’s nape.

Tony shuddered in effect, his eyes rolling closed, wondering how he hadn’t even heard Steve enter the barn. That probably was a testament to how irrevocably lost he felt. “Laura asked me to look at the tractor,” he explained. “Figured it was a good way as any to get my mind off of things for a bit.”

He stared down at the tractor, fiddling with the screwdriver again before he put it down on the engine hood. Steve caught the movement, and Tony felt him smile as he reached around and traced the screwdriver’s hot-rod red handle. “Wondered where I left it last time.”

“Found it in your uniform, as usual. You’re such a slob, no one would believe me.”

Steve hummed in agreement.

Tony looked over his shoulders, raising a brow. Steve already wore his full Captain America gear, sans the helmet and shield. “We ready to leave?”

“Just about. Bucky and Nat asked for another half hour.” Another kiss swept across his skin. “They wanted a moment alone.”

Tony huffed. “Can imagine.” He traced the curve of Steve’s hand with his forefinger.

Steve pursed his lips. “And I wanted some time with you, too, before we had to… in case…”

“In case today’s it?”

Steve hesitated, then nodded.

Tony searched his face. “Thought we agreed it wouldn’t be.”

“It won’t,” Steve agreed. “But… after those last days, I learned not to live on good faith.”

Tony said nothing to that; rather looked away again, shame and guilt flooding his insides. It was very clear what Steve was hinting at.

There was a hand on Tony’s shoulders, then, turning him around fully so they were face to face. Steve stepped up closer, crowding him against the tractor, and looked him straight in the eyes.

He pressed his face into Tony’s neck, breathing him in, before—ever so lightly—he started kissing his skin. He nibbled at his earlobe with his teeth, then continued kissing his way all across Tony’s throat. His hand crossed his belly and pushed the sides of his jacket away so that he could reach his belt.

“What are you doing?” Tony asked with a subdued voice, though there really was no mistaking Steve’s intent, and Tony’s body reacted appropriately.

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“You said we’re leaving in half an hour,” Tony reminded him. “Can’t be much longer than twenty now…”

“Are you saying no?”

Huffing, Tony let his hands drop lower, placing them on Steve’s ass and pulling him in. “Do I ever?”

With that, Steve claimed his mouth, tasting him, leaving nothing to question, and the taste had Tony drunk within seconds. The full want of feeling—knowing and accepting that Steve was there, that he had not left him—had Tony’s nerves seeking physical verification. The softness of Steve’s lips against his, the full feel of him wrapped around Tony… it all quickly drove his senses into over-drive, and overwhelmed him so fast that he felt he couldn’t take it all.

“Need to hurry,” Steve reminded him, voice laced with regret.

“I know,” Tony said, and leaned back against the tractor. Without hesitation, Steve’s hands explored his body, grabbing his ass, pressing his pelvis against him so Tony could feel how desperately he needed this.

“Tell me you got lube,” Tony gasped when Steve tugged on his belt again, opening it this time.

“Yeah.”

Tony blinked. “You do? How?”

Steve shook his head, a small smile curving his lips. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

A gasp tore from Tony’s throat. “Fine with me,” he agreed, rubbing himself against Steve’s hand. “Get on with it.”

Steve hiked Tony’s legs around his waist, pushing him up against the tractor’s side, his hand still caressing him through his jeans. “So hard for me.”

A scoff of indignation shuddered through Tony. “And you’re surprised?”

“Just glad you still want me.”

Tony met Steve’s eyes and felt a shiver run down his spine, his hands impatiently tearing at Steve’s uniform trousers. “Baby, I’ll keep on wanting you forever,” he whispered, yanking the belt away and jerking his fly down with more impatience than he cared to display. Didn’t matter, though. Steve’s cock sprang into his hands, after Tony dragged the pants down over Steve’s ass, and he was rewarded with a moan in turn.

Steve leaned down on him, and his mouth traced the expense of Tony’s throat. One hand managed to wheedle under Tony’s shirt, while the other was tugging at his pants. Tugging and then—Dammit, Steve buried his head in the nape of his throat as he found his hardness. Caressing flesh that he knew so well. Teasing him, drawing artless circles around the head that craved his touch the most. Tony heard Steve chuckling at the noises he made, but turnabout was fair play. His own hands were well occupied; gliding laps up and down his length, teasing his sensitive head with excited liberation.

“You smell so good,” Steve murmured, favoring his throat with a long, amorous lick; his smile broadened when a breathy whimper escaped Tony’s lips. He nuzzled him a moment longer, then leaned back up. He was quite the sight, hair mussed and uniform top slightly tugged up above his pecs, pants pooled around his thighs.

Tony grinned, spreading his legs as best as he could with his own trousers still around his hips. He watched Steve open the lube, pouring some on his hand before his index finger aligned with his entrance and edged inward ever-so-slowly.

He pumped into him a couple of times, back and forth, and Tony tried spreading his thighs further apart, his trembling calves battling his jeans until they were around his knees. “Come on,” he whispered hoarsely. Demandingly. “Just do it now.”

Steve agreed with a desperate nod, fingers abandoning Tony’s hole to rip his shoes off and then both pant-legs free. He stepped up between Tony’s now naked legs, winding both of them around his waist. “Sure you can take it?” he asked, and Tony could barely refrain from rolling his eyes.

Prep was good and well, not that he didn’t enjoy it, but they’d been doing this for years, very regularly, and letting Steve stretch him on his cock was one of the simpler pleasures. This was as much about love as it was about reassurance. And for that, Tony didn’t want to wait any longer.

“Very sure. Need you now.”

Steve lubed himself, and when he was poised at his entrance, he paused one last time, before he carefully shoved inside. And when he was settled within him, Tony’s body came alive in ways that were so familiar by now but alien all the same. His cry of pleasure was swallowed by Steve’s insistent mouth. He held still for a minute and Tony felt him tremble above him. For control, for release, for anything, Tony didn’t know.

When Steve’s mouth pulled away from his, he met Tony’s eyes with visible strain. “You’re real tight,” he declared.

“I’m good. Promise.”

Steve nodded, pulled back and thrust back into Tony hard enough to shake the tractor. Steve’s head flew back somewhat, his hands finding Tony’s hips and squeezing him with a tight grip.

It had only been days—a few short days—since they had been together like this. And yet so much had happened. Things had changed. Steve’s mouth worshipped Tony’s throat with reverent, desperate kisses, and he was pushing into him with deep, arresting strokes.

“Goddammit,” Tony rasped, moving against Steve, who changed rhythms at his own whim. Soft and hard at the same time—fast but agonizingly slow. Tony’s hands tightened on top of Steve’s, their hips battling. He tried to keep up, but by now, Steve was pounding into him so ruthlessly that he thought the goddamn barn would come crashing down soon.

“Steve,” he gasped, earning a particularly sharp thrust. And then sensory started to fade—his gaze went blurry and his knees weakened even as his legs refused to let Steve go. His grasp on him became anxious, his eyes watering. He scrambled for hold on the tractor, grabbing the steering wheel with one hand and the old steam vent with the other.

“That’s it,” Steve rasped into his ear. “Give it all to me. All of it.” His thrusts were growing even more frantic, but no less precise. As though releasing to a mixture of relief and anger at once. As though punishing Tony for making him worry so much. Every strangled moan from Tony was answered with a gasp of pleasure, and Tony did not call him on it. It was good. He felt so _good_. With every plunge, every parry, and the incoherent murmurings that tumbled from Tony’s throat, he felt himself falling into bliss just a little bit faster.

All of a sudden, echoes of Extremis started buzzing in his mind. The connection came back online on the next beat and it felt much stronger than it had before Ultron’s attack. Within seconds, it spread all over his body, settling deep inside him along with the endorphins rushing through his blood. The mixture was a constant pressure, cresting, and yet, in the end his climax hit him from nowhere. Without warning, Steve wrapped his fingers around Tony’s hard-on, and only seconds later, Tony cried out and came. And as his muscles contracted around him, Steve groaned and followed. Emptying himself into him, before falling limp in his embrace.

There was nothing for a good few minutes; nothing but the mingled pants that colored the space around them. Tony’s arms and legs were still abound Steve and Steve’s face was buried in the hollow of his throat.

The air was strangely warm around them and Tony trembled with little shocks of aftermath. He had Steve drawn as close to him as he could and feathered the side of his face with soft kisses. He was still inside him, partially hard and growing more so. It didn’t really surprise him.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Steve murmured after a long moment. One of his hands was tracing what Tony thought might be the formation of a small bruise on his hips.

Tony grinned, and closed his eyes briefly to see if he could access Extremis again. And he could—there was no pain whatsoever. Extremis had settled inside him like some long-lost lover. “Only in the good ways.”

The assurance obviously did not convince Steve, his hand still at his hip, a frown marring his brow as he looked up. “That’s gonna bruise. I held you too hard, I was—”

“You were fine.” Taking full advantage of their position, Tony squeezed Steve tight enough to restore his hardness and elicit a rumble of passion within the same beat. Steve’s gaze fogged over and he stared at Tony with deferential wonder.

“You didn’t hurt me,” Tony said again, coaxing his hold on Steve to lessen with another squeeze. His eyes fell closed, his head landing back on the tractor’s surface as he began moving on Steve’s length in languid, cooling strokes. He loved this part. Despite the fact that he sure as hell wouldn’t be getting it up again, it was perfect. Just knowing that he could make Steve feel good, only by staying tight around him.

Steve groaned; whether at the debauched picture Tony must be making right now, or at the feeling of his body sliding up and down his length, he wasn’t sure. Likely both. “Tony…”

“It’s okay. Take what you need.”

Steve released a long, trembling sigh against his throat, his hips finally moving in time with Tony’s. He made no effort to claim control again, and the notion had Tony smile.

Tracing one hand upward to cup the arc reactor, Steve kissed him again. His movements over him remained unhurried but passionate. His fingers combed through Tony’s hair and scored soft trails down his shoulders. Tony’s body was getting more sensitive with each stroke, still on the good side of overstimulation, and he wanted Steve to take his pleasure. This was for him.

All for him.

Tony’s hands fell back to Steve’s hips. He thrust downward, squeezing Steve with all he had, even as his hands trailed under Steve’s uniform top, pinching both nipples.

Steve moaned, his thrusts losing all finesse, as he rutted into him. “Christ, Tony…”

“Come on, you can go faster.”

“Don’t wanna be too rough on you.”

“I like you…” Tony’s eyes fell shut with the lilt of a particularly deep thrust, a wrangled gasp escaping his throat. “Rough.”

On a shaky sigh, Steve sped up. And soon after, he pressed his face back into Tony’s shoulder and moaned into his sweatshirt as he found release for a second time.

Tony lay against the tractor in all kinds of shades of exhaust. His legs were taut but remained bound around Steve’s waist, his arms linked behind his throat. And they lay contentedly, hugging each other for long quiet minutes while enjoying one last peaceful afterglow before they’d have to step out.

In fact, they were so busy with themselves that neither heard the barn doors swing open, or the timely gasp that preceded Clint’s shrill, “Oh my GOD! What the hell are you guys doing?!”

Tony froze, fingers digging into Steve’s skin. But, to Steve’s credit, he didn’t move away from Tony one bit. On the contrary, he leaned forward, shielding Tony completely and likely giving Clint one hell of a view, what with the way he had his ass pointed straight towards the barn’s door.

“Technically, we’re not in your house,” Steve said, his voice strained.

“That’s my favorite tractor!”

“It’s your _only_ tractor,” Tony pointed out on a laugh.

“We’ll buy you a new one,” Steve declared. His face was beet red, but he betrayed absolutely no shame. Or maybe he just stoically endured his predicament. Both options were equally awesome. “Please leave now.”

“Goddammit,” Clint said, evidently unhampered by the awkwardness of the situation. “I expect a state of the art tractor, Tony, all extras, in shiny purple, are we clear?”

“Very,” Tony answered.

There was a scuffle and a hasty retreat. Only when the doors closed did Steve’s eyes drop back to Tony’s.

“Poor guy,” Tony said, releasing another laugh into the air. “That was, what, the second time?”

“Third,” Steve corrected. He drew back, taking hold of himself as he pulled out of Tony carefully. “If you count the one time in the gym.”

“Blowies always count,” Tony decided. “Besides, serves him right for never knocking.”

Steve cast him an unrepentant grin. “True.”

“We’re taking the tractor home with us, by the way,” Tony went on. “Put it in the shop, call it the tractor of love. It’ll be awesome.”

“Uh-uh,” Steve mumbled, but there was still an amused smile on his face he couldn’t hide. He helped Tony to his feet, and produced a pack of tissues from god-knows-where. They cleaned up as best as they could with the barn’s rusty water supply, and as soon as they’d both had their pants back on, Steve drew Tony in again.

When the kiss ended, Tony leaned his forehead against Steve’s. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t forgiven me.”

Steve shook his head, tugging at the waistband of Tony’s trousers to pull him even nearer. “You don’t have to find out,” he promised, his mouth was on Tony’s again, and the world melted away.

_Until_ there were voices in front of the barn, followed by Barnes’ shouting: “Steve! Get your pants back on, for God’s sake. We gotta go!”

With a sigh, Steve pulled back. He cupped Tony’s face, stroking his cheek. “See you later.”

Tony nodded, hating that there’d be radio silence from here on out, but with Ultron controlling basically everything, there was no way around it. He felt Extremis steadily restoring itself, and it was more powerful than ever, but using it would be too much of a risk at this point. He'd have to wait until it was stable enough. “I’ll join you as soon as I can,” he said.

There was no sense in trying to fill their fears with empty promises. Nothing was ever certain, especially where they were concerned. All they had was the moment. And stolen ones, such as these, made it all the sweeter.

Steve’s eyes flickered to something in the back of the barn, and when he walked to the tractor, Tony didn’t understand what he was doing at first. But then he stepped up to him again, twirling the little red screwdriver in his hand. “That’s mine,” he announced, and pocketed it right after.

“You know I expect to get it back.”

Steve smiled, as he turned to leave. “That’s the point.”


	5. For What’s Inside

 

**Steve**

 

Steve felt a great deal of trepidation as he walked through the basement of the U-GIN Genetic Research Facility. Every attempt at contacting Helen Cho on their way to Seoul had failed, confirming Bruce’s suspicions that Ultron had somehow infiltrated the facility, and it had been a last minute decision of taking the sewer entrance instead of just stepping into the building.

Which meant it was a long way to the top floor.

With Sam and Bucky at his side, they headed up a last set of stairs, and when Steve rounded up the corner that led to the elevators, the two stayed on his heels, their presences steadying. They kept following him through the hallway, to the elevator on the left, and slipped inside.

There was a moment of silence, as the doors closed.

“Can’t believe you boinked Stark on Clint’s tractor,” Sam said, and on the next beat, he and Bucky started chuckling. “He’ll never stop talking about it.”

“Way to go, Stevie,” Bucky agreed, his eyes dancing with mischievous respect.

Steve released a long breath. He’d known the moment Clint had walked in on them that he’d be hearing about this for weeks to come— _years_ , probably. “Can we please not do this now?”

“What?” Bucky asked, his tone askance. “I’m impressed, that’s all. After all that awkward stammering with Peggy… didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Well, _technically_ …” Sam started, but when Steve turned around and glared at him disapprovingly, he shut his mouth and raised both hands in defense. “Just saying, man. Clint was very graphic. Not that I needed to know which way around you guys are doing it.”

Steve _thought_ about correcting them—that there was no such thing as a single ‘way’ for their lovemaking, thanks very much—but in the end, he held his tongue. Some things really didn’t need to be discussed.

“It was _private_.”

“On a tractor?”

Steve groaned. “ _In_ a barn. Behind closed doors. Clint knew we were in there, he could have knocked.”

The elevator dinged, and Steve held up a hand, signaling to stop all conversations—thankfully—on the matter. When they stepped out and walked around the first corner, they came face to face with a wounded and pale-looking Helen Cho. The lab around them was a mess, glass shards and destroyed lab equipment all over the floor.

“Helen,” Steve called, squatting down in front of her. The thick smell of blood was tickling his nose. Her wounds were severe—it wasn’t hard to see that. Some sort of burn that had to be from Ultron’s repulsors himself and that had left a deep wound all across her torso.

She made a choked up sound, as she stared up at Steve in horror. “He’s uploading himself into the body.”

Steve grabbed for a pack of first aid compresses from his utility belt, and pushed it against the wound. Meanwhile, he could hear Sam and Bucky walking through the lab behind his back, opening drawers and cupboards with hectic movements.

“Where?” he asked.

“The real power is inside the cradle,” she ground out, gritting her teeth as Steve pressed in a bit more. “The gem. Its power is uncontainable.”

Next to Steve, Sam threw a first aid kit and a few bottles on the floor, filling a syringe with clear fluid. He carefully pushed the needle into Dr. Cho’s arm, injecting her with what Steve hoped were some really good painkillers.

When Sam kneeled down and went to work on her wound with steady movements, there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes—hope that had not completely lost to anguish.

“You can’t just blow it up,” Dr. Cho went on, her voice all bravery. “You have to get the cradle to Tony.”

Steve sighed as he nodded. “First I have to find it.”

“Go,” Sam offered. “I got this. Medics will be here soon, she’ll make it.”

“Alright,” Steve said, albeit reluctantly. The other laboratories around them stood empty, and there was no way to tell which route Ultron and the Maximoff twins had taken. He had no idea where they could be now. Seoul was huge, and maybe they’d already left the city long ago. Or Ultron might have set up shop anywhere in town to upload himself into the new body.

They didn’t have much time left, Steve was sure of it.

He turned to Bucky, but it was clear that he was as much in the dark as Steve was. Reaching into his shield and gripping the leather straps, Steve placed it on the holder on his back. “We should head outside. Nat and Clint are sweeping the city, we need to be ready.”

Bucky nodded his head. “Alright,” he replied. Together, he and Bucky hurried back to the elevators. The sky outside was clouded by a layer of smog. Just gray clouds that glazed over every building in a never-ending blanket. Stepping out of the facility, Steve looked down on the streets—watched the people that knew nothing of the subhuman existence that might endanger them all. First New York, Washington, then Wakanda. And all of those little villages in Eastern Europe afterwards. Casualties had always been much too high whenever they had encountered a super villain. And Steve had a feeling today wouldn’t be any different.

No wonder that all those voices of criticism were growing louder each day.

A calm, controlled breath rolled through his lips. Today had to be it. No more victims would have to find their blood on Ultron’s metal hands.

“I got a private jet taking off,” Natasha called through the comm-line, “across town, no manifest. That could be him.”

Steve raised his head, expression stony. When committing himself to a mission, he needed to disassociate all of these thoughts from his surroundings. “On our way,” he called into the microphone. Or better yet if Clint picked them up with the Quinjet.

“There,” Clint chimed in before Steve could say anything more. “It’s the truck from the lab. Right above you, Cap. On the loop by the bridge.” He paused for a moment. “It’s them. I got three with the cradle, one in the cab. I could take out the driver.”

“Negative!” Steve shouted back. He and Bucky raced towards a ladder leading up to the upper level. “If that truck crashes, the gem could level the city. We need to draw out Ultron.”

They took off as soon as they reached the bridge. Pausing briefly to catch the truck driving in their direction on the street below, Steve readied himself for jumping.

“Can you stop the truck and not risk it falling over?”

There was a brief pause, before Bucky raised a brow. “Sorry, was that a question?”

Steve grinned. “Just checking.” When the truck was just a few meters away, he took a running start. He barely managed to land right on top of it, rolling across the surface and coming to rest just above the cockpit.

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve could see Bucky take aim with his sniper rifle on top of the bridge, and in the next second, both front tires burst, and the truck veered sideways, without once running the risk of toppling. Instead, the truck came to a skittering halt, and moved no further.

That was one of the reasons why he’d missed working with Bucky.

“Show-off,” Natasha said, but they all could hear the smile in her voice.

The robot inside the cockpit made a grab for Steve as soon as he had smashed the driver’s window, but was repelled momentarily by another shot from Bucky’s gun. Steve grabbed the robot by the helmet and threw it through the air, and—accidentally—right into Bucky, who had landed on the SUV as well.

“That how you thank me?” Bucky shouted, as he toppled over on his back.

Steve winced. “Sorry.”

Bucky jumped to his feet, and without much ceremony, he ripped the robot’s head off with his metal hand. Looking around, Steve finally spotted Ultron himself inside the SUV. He was busy hammering on some console next to the cradle as two more of his minions tried moving it out of the truck.

A second later, though, Ultron jumped on top of the truck and approached Steve with an upraised hand and calculating red eyes. “You know what’s in that cradle?” he asked without preliminaries, his voice vicious, as he fired a repulsor blast at him. “The power to make real change. And that _terrifies_ you.”

Steve clenched his jaw, then threw his shield at Ultron while dodging another blast. He effectively sank it right into Ultron’s armor, causing a deep lash in his torso. “Your definition of ‘change’? I wouldn’t call it a comfort.”

Ultron pulled the shield out before throwing it back in Steve’s direction. Simultaneously, he fired a blast at him, and Steve had to sidetrack and therefore couldn’t catch the shield in time and watched it toppling to the street.

The next thing he knew, Ultron had gripped him by the throat, pulling him a good few meters off the ground. There was something close to smugness flashing across his face, and he opened his mouth to say something, before he froze.

He froze _completely_ , then stared into the distance.

Steve watched, with a great deal of confusion—but also with some dark foreboding—how Ultron’s red eyes slowly transformed into an oily black, and how a smug smile formed on his metal lips soon after.

“Hmmm… _interesting_ ,” he mused darkly. “What a surprise, indeed. You want to know who just came back online, Captain? I think you might know him.”

Steve knew it before Ultron’s red eyes were fully laced with the black surface. That look on Ultron’s face—the mixture of absence and deep concentration—he knew that look intimately.

_Extremis_.

“I told Stark he couldn’t hide forever,” he continued, his voice now full of glee. “Let’s see how long it’ll take me to defrag his mind, shall we?”

Steve’s jaw tightened and his body grew tense. He gripped for Ultron’s hands, struggling against the hold. He refused to let Ultron mess with him that easily. “You can try.”

“Look at this,” Ultron said, almost cooing now. “Still trusting Stark, even when he never once trusted you. You’re terribly naïve. But we’ll see how you like him when all he can do is drool on the floor.”

Experience alone refused to let those words get to Steve too much. He’d been toyed with before—the Red Skull, Killian, Alexander Pierce… but something _was_ wrong. He didn’t know what was happening exactly—if what Ultron said was actually true—and not being able to know for sure was absolutely terrifying.

Were they fighting in their minds? Aside from the black eyes, it didn’t look as if Ultron was overly distracted, but then again… he was the world’s most advanced supercomputer. He could do just about anything right now, and Steve wouldn’t know.

Ultron had been holding Steve with the pretense of calmness; but then a jolt went through him and Steve was spiraling across the street, the guard railing crashing hard into his back when he landed.

“Cap!” Natasha called, and Steve spotted her racing towards the truck on Steve’s motorcycle and throwing the shield right at him.

Steve hardened. He had to. He caught the shield in midair, throwing it into Ultron’s side and pushing him off the truck’s roof. He rushed at Ultron, pushing him down on the asphalt, allowing the momentum to carry him right on top of him. He grunted silently with the impact, but held his shield down on Ultron’s throat, even though the robot was pressing up against it with all he had.

Agitated, he shot Bucky a look, nodding towards the truck’s opening. Bucky understood immediately, and sprinted for the rear hatch, where the cradle rested. Natasha made a grab for the robot attempting to intercept Bucky, holding onto its helmet and smashing it on the ground.

“How it must _bug_ you,” Steve spat right into Ultron’s face, trying for distraction. He hadn’t survived as long as he had by being overly cautious. He’d made it by taking calculated risks that brought big pay offs. And right now, he had to keep Ultron busy at all cost. “The man you hate most has all the power you have, access to everything, healing powers, but he also got a healthy human body. Something you will never have.”

Ultron’s gaze darkened. “What?”

He nodded at the deep broken lash in Ultron’s body, at the cables falling out. “You’re stuck in this outdated metal casing. The big Ultron isn’t quite as memorable as he’d like to be… You’re just an enormous egomaniac with an inferiority complex that’s almost as funny as your sense of entitlement to everything this world has to offer.”

At that, Ultron raised both hands so fast Steve couldn’t hold him down in time. He was firing shots that Steve could barely dodge. “You honestly think that I am jealous of _Stark_? ME?”

When Ultron raced towards him, Steve skipped to his feet, taking a running start to head butt him in the stomach. Flipping his shield, he swung it like a bat, and there was a grating sound, before Ultron’s body collapsed.

“Of course you are,” Steve said, slightly out of air. “It’s all out in the open: You just didn’t turn out impressive enough.”

Ultron growled as he tried standing up again. It was then that Steve spotted his eyes flickering between black and red, and the small spasms in his arms. He looked pained, as much as his robotic features allowed—pained, and a whole lot distracted.

What was happening? Was that Tony’s doing?

“STOP TALKING!” Ultron shouted, clearly some response to whatever Tony was telling him in his mind, his voice manic as he forced himself to his feet. “You’d both do better to remember who you’re talking to!”

“It’s why you killed JARVIS, right?” Steve pressed on. “You terribly wanted to feel you’ve accomplished _something_.”

“This coming from the punch line of all your kind? A lecture about ‘accomplishment’? You think you’re extraordinary for letting someone dose you with a chemical mixture? Please. There is a reason you and Stark cling to each other—you’re… the world’s… biggest… JOKES!”

And with that, Ultron dished out one punch after the other, ramming his fist down on Steve’s shield repeatedly. Goddammit, Ultron was strong, and this hurt like hell. Soon, Steve couldn’t raise his shield in time anymore, and agony exploded through his body when he was hit square in the left side of his abdomen. He felt something bruise deep within him and could barely stay conscious as he collapsed to the ground.

Dazedly, Steve heard Ultron chuckle. “We’ll see how you like this,” he said, to whom Steve didn’t know, but there was already another metal fist rushing towards him, and good God, he’d really underestimated Ultron, and this could be it, this could—

An air blast rushed past Steve and when he managed to look up, he saw Pietro Maximoff shoving Ultron out the way. There were red blasts of magic wavering through the air, and Steve heard her before his blurry field of vision cleared up. Wanda walked towards Ultron, and the street’s guard railing was pulled out of the ground one by one. It wrapped itself around Ultron’s body, squeezing him tight.

“Please. Don’t do this,” Ultron said to Wanda, as he struggled, his voice strangely pleading.

“What choice do we have?” Wanda asked, looking shell-shocked even as she tightened the guard railing’s hold further and further. Ultron was trashing, his eyes black once more, but from one moment to the other, it seemed as though an electroshock had burst through his innards. Ultron slumped against his prison, a strained sound reaching the air.

It took Steve a long moment to recover from the pain, but when he looked back up, he spotted Bucky and Natasha finally carrying the cradle outside of the truck.

“We need evac!” Bucky ground into the comm. “Barton—”

“Yeah, yeah, incoming,” Clint said shortly before Steve heard the Quinjet’s engines coming nearer. “No need to get your panties in a twist.”

Ultron roared when he finally realized what was going on. His fury seemed to strengthen him, and in the next second, his eyes turned red once more and he broke the railing in two, rushing forward. Bucky took a shot at him, and when that didn’t take, he took up the fight, metal arm against metal arm.

Steve stood up and raced towards Nat and the cradle. The Quinjet was hovering just above ground and Steve saw the red magic waves floating all around them, making it much easier to carry it inside.

When Steve turned around—the cradle now safely inside the jet—Bucky was still busy keeping Ultron at bay. Steve saw a deep gash all across his face, and took running, Natasha hot on his heels. Pietro was busy fighting off the new minions racing through the air around them, and Steve had to admit, he was doing a pretty good job at it. Wanda was firing one blast after the other at Ultron, followed by a _swoosh_ just up in the air above them. Steve spotted Sam, hovering above them, and pulling out all firepower and directing it at Ultron.

For the fraction of a second, Steve was sure they’d win this and end the fight for good. That together, they could kill Ultron before he could wreak any real damage. But Ultron seemed to understand how bad his situation was, and fired up his boot thrusters. Bucky noticed in time, taking hold on Ultron’s torso to keep him down, and instead spiraled in the air with him.

“James!” Natasha yelled, trying to get a grip on his shoes, but Bucky was out of reach in the blink of an eye.

A breath left Steve’s lips. “Let go!” he shouted, and even from the growing distance, he saw Bucky struggling. Ultron was holding his metal arm in a firm grip, though, probably more interested in taking Bucky with him than shaking him off.

“Sam!” Steve yelled, needlessly, because Sam was already rushing through the air, firing at Ultron as he tried to stay out of his line of sight.

Wanda Maximoff stepped up next to Steve. Her eyes were calculating and pensive as she looked upwards. She raised her hands in front of her, the red starting to wave around Ultron’s head.

“Stark’s inside him,” she told him. “In his head. I can feel it.”

Steve had figured as much. The struggles, the blackness of his eyes—Tony must’ve somehow accessed Extremis again and had been fighting Ultron the whole time. “Can he stop him?”

Wanda hummed. “He is trying,” she said and just as her words left her lips, Ultron’s body began to twitch and shake, as if he’d lost control over his own limbs. Bucky was struggling, and in the next second, Ultron’s hands lost their grip and he was falling rapidly through the cloudy sky.

Steve heard Natasha’s sharp gasp, but they both knew Sam had gotten real good at this, and only a moment later, he had already caught Bucky and pulled him safely to his chest.

“Gotcha,” Sam said and through the comm-line, Steve could hear both Bucky and Sam whooping. Natasha smiled widely, slumping against Steve with a relieved chuckle.

“You boys really have a problem with falling off of things,” she mused, while Sam did a U-turn, and rushed towards the ground. “Wonder how Tony does it.”

Steve forced a smile to his lips, even while his thoughts darkened. He glanced at Wanda, and she looked right back at him. The discontented look in her eyes didn’t sit well with him at all.

Tony had held control over Ultron the whole time. But at what price?

What had happened back home?

 

* * *

 

Steve sat slumped on the Quinjet’s floor—he seemed to be doing that a lot lately—staring down on his phone, wishing with a good amount of desperation that he could just call Tony. Make sure he was alright. Ask what was going on. But he couldn’t. Any long-distance communication was off the table for them, and he knew he’d have to wait till they arrived in New York to know for sure if Ultron had told the truth.

_We’ll see how you like him when all he can do is drool on the floor._

_Goddammit,_ Steve thought and scanned his surroundings in an agitation.

Sam and Clint had taken control over the cockpit, while Bucky was sitting next to Steve, holding a compress bandage against the wound on his cheek, where Ultron had burned him.

Only now, he realized that his other arm, the metal one, was hanging limply at his side.

“What happened?”

Bucky frowned at the question, then followed Steve’s gaze. “Don’t know, seems broken.”

“Ultron?” Steve asked, feeling worry creeping up his spine, which was confirmed when Bucky nodded.

“Yeah. I felt him… worming his way inside the arm’s system,” Bucky said. “He’d controlled it in a heartbeat, felt like he could’ve done much more than that…”

“What do you mean?”

Bucky tapped a finger against his temple and Steve’s eyes widened when he understood.

The implants.

“I know,” Bucky said and grinned self-deprecatingly. “Seems like I can’t keep the bad guys outta my head.”

“Not your fault.”

“No. But I can’t risk him actually succeeding. I can’t go through that again. I’d rather die.” He raised one of his shoulders in a half-shrug. “Anyway, it’s broken now. Problem solved.”

Steve wound an arm around Bucky. “We’ll see what Tony has to say to that once we get home.”

Bucky waved him off. “Really not our biggest problem.”

“No, it’s not,” Steve agreed and sighed.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. I do wanna be part of the team,” Bucky said on an eye-roll, and that was new—at least, Bucky had never been that clear about it. And the fact that he told Steve now, and without back paddling or flinching at his own honesty, made Steve fiercely proud. “But falling into his hands isn’t worth it. Don’t ask me to do that. You and your people will manage without me just fine.”

They fell silent for long moments. “We will,” Steve agreed eventually, because he really wasn’t gonna force Bucky into this fight if it meant he’d be in danger of losing himself.

Wanda and Pietro were still standing side by side next to the cradle, looking down at it thoughtfully. Wanda had that determined, troubled look on her face, but she seemed otherwise calm. The two talked quietly from time to time, their words foreign to Steve’s ears, casting short glances at the team. They didn’t look exactly guilty, but there was regret on their faces, and Steve decided that it would be enough for now.

Enough until they could take Ultron down together. After today, he knew they could use all the support they could get. And anyway—Steve had realized by now that their attacking them in Sokovia and Wakanda had been motivated more by repressed rage against Tony and Stark Industries than anything else. And maybe they could still salvage this, have them get to know Tony. Maybe they could take them in, give them a home, too… even after all that they had put them through.

“Steve,” Natasha called, approaching slowly.

He and Bucky both looked up. She had a sheet of paper in her hand, and hesitated a moment before she handed it to Steve.

“What is it?” Steve asked.

Natasha looked uncomfortable, and that wasn’t exactly calming Steve’s mind. Usually, she made sure to keep her emotions in check. “I sent a Morse code message to Bruce. His reply just came back… seems like Ultron told the truth.”

Steve stared down at the paper, quickly translating the lines and dots to actual words.

_Trouble with Extremis. All alive. Come home. B_

Bucky took the paper out of Steve’s hands when prompted. “Well, no one died today, that’s the good news.”

“If that’s the good news I don’t wanna know the bad ones.”

“It’s only another half hour,” Natasha said and sat down on Steve’s other side, her head pillowed on his shoulder. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah.” Steve sighed. Did they fly slower than usual? It felt as if they should’ve arrived home a long time ago. “I hate this radio silence,” he murmured sullenly.

“It’s necessary,” Natasha supplied gently.

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Bucky waved at their surroundings with his bloodied compress. “Better off than we are, anyway.” He pointed at Steve’s abdomen, and he had no idea how Bucky knew that Steve felt like someone had rearranged his organs, but apparently, he did.

It was true. It had been a close call, in more than one way.

Steve took a low breath and stared over to the red alien body lying inside the cradle. He didn’t know what to make of it. The only thing he knew was that he’d promised Tony to bring it home, and that was exactly what he was going to do.

And with any luck, they could soon go back to their not-quite-normal lives, and finally do what they’d planned to do for far too long.

They could go to that agency, decide how to do this and… start a family. And dammit, he _wanted_ —he wanted to have that kid with Tony now. He wanted it badly. Being around Clint’s kids might’ve been some kind of eye-opener, but Steve was sure the outcome would’ve been the same, no matter what.

It had just… taken some time. He had never spent much time around children; always been too sick to help his mother care for the neighborhood kids. After dropping out from fine arts, his only goal had been to enlist, and the thought of actually settling down hadn’t really crossed his mind. Honestly, the closest he’d gotten to interacting with a child was the few times he’d had to take a promotional photo with a baby during the USO tour.

Had he known the simple pleasure of being the source of a child’s delight, he wouldn’t have wasted so much time mulling this over. He wouldn’t have let Tony wait and wait and wait for a decision.

What if he was already too late now?

“Stevie, come on,” Bucky prompted and tried and failed to raise his metal arm to console him. “Tony’s a grown man, he’s like… that Coyote guy from that kid’s series Clint’s watching all the time.”

“Roadrunner,” Natasha supplied on a chuckle.

“Yeah, that. You know, he keeps coming back no matter how often he explodes, or… falls down a cliff, or whatever…”

Steve smiled, _had to_ —because however much Bucky’s words were meant to soothe him, they mostly brought back all of those horrible memories of Tony lying lifelessly on the ground. The palladium, the Chitauri invasion, Aldrich Killian, _Bucky_ … Tony’s life had been at stake so many times, and it sure as hell hadn’t felt like a cartoon.

“We’re thinking about having a kid, Tony and I,” Steve said and the words simply burst out of his lips. He might not have planned to share the big secret now of all times, but the thought of coming home and seeing that dream vanish before it even started—Steve just couldn’t do it.

“What?” Sam was the first to find his voice. He had turned around in the cockpit, staring at Steve with wide eyes. When Steve nodded, there was a blaze of confusion and surprise on his face. “I’m your friend, man. _When?_ ”

“Has been going on for a while.” Steve glanced sideways to Bucky. “I’ve meant to tell you, but…” He trailed off, noticing the attentive but otherwise very unsurprised look on his friend’s face. Natasha sported about the same expression, and Clint hadn’t even bothered to turn around from his seat in the cockpit.

Right.

“You all knew, didn’t you.”

“Of course we did,” Natasha told him with a gentle voice, her head still pillowed on Steve’s shoulders. “You’ll make a great dad. _Dads_. Both of you.”

“Not so sure about Stark,” Bucky murmured, and before Steve could say something to that, Natasha had already whacked him on the back of his head.

“Tony, too. Just because it took him a while to come around to it…”

“It wasn’t Tony who had his doubts,” Steve clarified without missing a beat. “It was me. I haven’t even told him I want it, yet. The whole time I wasn’t sure if I was ready… and now…”

“Hush,” Natasha reprimanded and pressed a soft kiss on Steve’s left cheek. Only then Steve realized how much his voice was shaking. “He’s fine. You’re fine. You’ll tell him, and then you’ll have a cute little baby and be all insufferably in love with it. It’s gonna be annoying as hell but we’ll leave you be because we love you.”

Steve couldn’t help it—a startled laugh left his lips as he let his head drop on top of Natasha’s. He felt Bucky’s human hand pet one of his knees and saw Sam smiling from his seat in the cockpit. Clint mumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘damned honeymoon-phase all over again’ and Steve knew they’d be okay.

As long as Tony was alright, it’ll all be okay.

“I always figured Tony wouldn’t want children,” Natasha mused softly.

“Don’t think he always did,” Steve said. “Had a change of heart.”

Natasha hummed. “And you?”

“Maybe I spent too much time thinking there was no one in my life who’d want kids with me. Guess the thought stuck. Hard to teach an old dog new tricks…”

Bucky opened his mouth to say something—probably how if Steve never went on dates he also couldn’t have met someone, which was fair enough, but Natascha talked right over him.

“But you do want it now?”

A real smile took hold of Steve’s face, and he felt something warm settle deep inside him. They were going to start a family together. He was going to be a father.

A _father_.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “I want it.”


	6. Ties That Bind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the wait guys! I hope you're still enjoying this. As of today I have officially finished writing this so updates should come a little bit quicker :)

 

 

**Steve**

 

It felt like much more time than just half an hour had passed when the Quinjet finally touched down on the rooftop of Avenger Tower. Steve ran straight into the elevator, and then into Tony’s workshop a few floors below. By then, he had envisioned about every possible scenario, what he _hadn’t_ expected, though, was to find Tony comfortably lounging on the workshop couch, a towel thrown over his head, while Bruce was sitting next to him and giving him what looked a lot like a foot rub.

The air smelled of lavender and peppermint, and Steve couldn’t see much of Tony, but _thank god_ , his body seemed unharmed.

Bruce, however, looked exhausted and shaken, staring down at his hands without really doing anything aside from massaging steady circles into the sole of Tony’s naked feet.

“Guys?” Steve called, approaching them.

It took both of them a second to make the connection between Steve’s voice and someone actually having entered the workshop, and that probably spoke volumes of how out of it they seemed to be. Bruce raised one hand in an awkward greeting, while Tony made a move to pull the towel off of his face, but apparently decided against it halfway through.

“I’m okay,” Tony declared, his words muffled.

“Yeah, that… looks like it,” Steve agreed, walking up to them warily. “Pain relief?” he asked and cast Bruce a questioning glance. There was a bottle of oil on the couch table that Steve recognized from the many times Bruce had rubbed the fluid against his temples after a Hulk-Out. Next to that, there was a gigantic bottle of Advil.

Bruce nodded. Then he mouthed ‘Don’t ask me’, and simply resumed the foot rub.

“Talk to me, Tony,” Steve prompted as he stepped up next to the couch, kneeling down. He had half a mind to simply rip the towel off of Tony’s face, but ultimately decided against it. “What happened here?”

“We worked on getting JARVIS back online,” Tony explained beneath the towel. “I needed Extremis for that. It came back online just after we left the farm, and… Ultron’s all over the network. So when I noticed him fighting you, I tried to attack him, or distract him, at the very least, and it worked. Kicked his ass nine ways from Sunday. Did you notice?”

Steve hummed his confirmation. “Yeah, we noticed. Helped us a great deal. Now, take the towel off.”

There was a short pause. “I look like shit.”

“I don’t care, let me see it.”

It took him another beat of contemplation, but eventually Tony dragged the towel off and away, scowling at him. “There.”

Now, Steve had braced himself for about everything, so he managed not to gasp in shock when Tony glanced up at him with the usual black Extremis-eyes. He did, however, flinch when he noticed the dry lines of blood all over his face, and the new tickles oozing out of the eye-corners.

“My God…” Steve breathed, and covered the space between them before another beat could pass. He pressed a kiss onto Tony’s cheek, not knowing what to do— _if_ there was anything to do. Steve met Tony’s pained eyes again; eyes that didn’t seem to belong to him, and it wasn’t just the blackness, they were unfocused and bleary, like Steve had never seen them before.

He caressed Tony’s cheek as gently as he could. “What’s going on?” he asked. Clearly, Tony was still linked to Extremis, and that meant Ultron could get to him whenever he wanted, right?

“Extremis is much more powerful than before. We’re guessing it copied some of Ultron’s code, and when it rebooted, it overheated a bit. That’s why the eyes stay black. And because they stay black, they’re bleeding. Not pretty, but not dangerous either.”

That couldn’t be good, Steve thought with a distressed look at Tony’s eyes. He had a feeling that Tony was downplaying this a whole lot and couldn’t be bothered to hold back his worry. Tony was steadily _bleeding_ out of the eyes, and aside from looking creepy, this couldn’t be healthy. He knew Tony’d survive—of course he would. Not even his panicked, possessive, ‘hands off my husband’ mindset could douse his knowledge of what Extremis could or couldn’t do. And the one positive thing about the virus was most definitely its healing powers.

Still, the man he loved was bleeding. He couldn’t help but go into overprotective mode.

“Stop,” Tony said softly, squeezing Steve’s hand. There was no true reprimand in his voice–more a gentle coaxing to reassure him that all was well.

“Stop what?”

“Looking at me like I’m gonna keel over any minute. I know I look like a Japanese horror flick monster but this is a good thing. Means I got the upper hand today. And Ultron knows so, too.”

Steve released a deep breath, and forced a nod.

“Tony really got to him,” Bruce confirmed with a gentle tone. “Trust me, I could’ve done without the dramatics, but his brainwaves were fantastic.”

Steve saw the corner of Tony’s mouth lift in a proud half-grin. “He’s such a fangirl.”

He had half a mind to tell the two exactly how much he cared about _brainwaves_ , but he knew that’d lead them nowhere.

“Look,” Tony prompted. “I’m sorry you have to see me like this. Aside from the freaky eyes, I got the headache of hell, but I can handle it.”

“I know,” Steve said and tried for a smile as he leaned down and kissed Tony’s lips softly. “I was so worried.”

“So business as usual.”

“Not funny,” Steve reprimanded, but kissed him again anyway.

“Guys… this is awkward,” Bruce murmured, his hands still on Tony’s feet.

“Nuh-uh,” Tony mumbled against Steve’s lips, while pointing a finger at Bruce. “Keep rubbing, Big Green. You owe me like… eighty million dollar for Wakanda alone.”

Bruce huffed, and pointedly let go of Tony’s feet as he stood up. “Ultron was a team effort,” he declared. “And rubbing your feet while you guys make out easily accounts for forty.” He walked over to the working station and washed his hands. Then, he sat down in front of one of the holographic monitors.

Tony chuckled, then let his fingers delve under Steve’s uniform shirt to caress his stomach. The smile on his lips faded somewhat as he softly massaged the skin where Ultron had hit him earlier. “And you? You’re bruised, too, I’m not stupid. I… I felt him hurt you.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Bullshit. You’re still favoring your right side. Bruce saw it, too, right, Brucie?”

Bruce only shook his head evenly. “Nope. Don’t pull me into that one.”

Steve frowned. “You had that towel over your face, how did you even—”

Tony huffed, pointing first to his black eyes, then to one camera on the ceiling.

“Right,” Steve said, sighing. He _hated_ Extremis’ supervision.

“You’re _bruised_ ,” Tony accused again.

“Yeah, and you’re bleeding,” Steve shot back. “Out of the _eyes_. Bruises are not exactly big news.”

Tony frowned and expelled a worried breath. _Good_. Then Steve wasn’t the only one. “I got Extremis. I won’t bleed much.”

“Uh-uh.”

“But you’re bruised.”

“ _I_ got the serum,” Steve retorted in the same manner. “It’ll heal quickly.”

“How did it go, anyway?” Bruce interrupted them. “Tony said Ultron got away?”

“Yeah, he got off the grid. I was sure we had him—for a moment, but he managed to escape.” Steve’s heaved a low breath. “Wish we could’ve put an end to this. Now we have to start all over again.”

God, he wanted so badly for this fight to be over. The prospect of going back to their usual daily routine now almost seemed foreign. He wanted to wake up without that shadow of Ultron haunting his every step, for the impending apocalypse that preceded his every move. It needed to be over.

“We won’t give up,” Tony declared softly. “I’ll track him to the end of the earth if I have to. Won’t give him a chance to come after any of us.”

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I know.”

“And we’ll do it together.”

“Yes.”

“It’s not over till it’s over.”

“Now you’re messing with me.”

Tony grinned broadly. “Just trying to get a laugh. And succeeding.”

There was a moment of mutual contemplation, before Steve traced one dried trail of blood on Tony’s cheek with his fingertip. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked. “Hate to see you hurting.”

“No,” Tony said. “It’s… a bit like a migraine. It’ll pass, and we have to take care of that body first. You got it, right? The body?”

“Yeah, we got it, but…” Steve frowned, when something else occurred to him. “You said you worked on getting JARVIS back online. How? I thought he was…”

Truth was, he wasn’t even sure he understood what had happened to JARVIS. But he’d thought for sure that he was gone for good.

Tony smiled, and even with the black eyes, he somehow managed to look immensely smug. “Remember the ‘ally’ Nick talked about? The guy protecting the nuclear codes? The one who revoked Bucky’s house arrest?” He grinned proudly. “I found him.”

“Good evening, Steve,” JARVIS intoned via the speakers. “It is good talking to you again.”

A surprised chuckle left Steve’s lips as he looked up. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d missed that voice. “Back at you, JARVIS.”

The sliding doors to the workshop opened, and when Steve turned around, he saw all of the others walking in. Bucky, Clint and Sam were carrying the cradle inside, carefully positioning it in the middle of the workshop. Wanda and Pietro were the last to enter and stayed in the back of the room.

The others, however, walked right up to them. Slowly, one after the other, their gazes settled on Tony.

“Ummm…” Clint offered unwaveringly. “Ew?”

Natasha tilted her head in worried regard, before she kneeled down and cupped Tony’s cheek. “You all right, Shellhead?”

Tony nodded. “Yeah… looks worse than it is. This is a good thing.”

“How is _that_ a good thing?” Sam asked.

Tony glanced at Steve, and smiled slightly. “It’s good ‘cause it means I got to him when he wasn’t expecting it. He knows now that he’s vulnerable, and that’ll make him angry at me, and therefore, reckless.” Tony pointed towards his eyes. “This is good. It’s a first step.”

Bucky waved him off with his human arm, the metal one still hanging limply at his side. “Anyone ever tell you that you have a masochistic streak a mile wide?”

Sam sniggered.

“I’m sorry?” Tony asked, his eyes flickering to Bucky’s arm for a second before he looked back up. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the pot calling the kettle black.”

He reached for Steve’s shoulder to pull himself into a sitting position. “It’s _temporary_ ,” he added. He used the towel to rub the oil off his feet and came to a stand. “I see you brought in strays again,” he added quietly, his eyes set on the Maximoff twins. “Didn’t we say Barnes was the last one? I’m pretty sure we’re out of rooms.”

“We’re not,” Steve said on an eye roll. “And they helped. Saved my life.”

“Of course they did.” Tony sighed and raised his voice. “Well, if she ever comes near anyone with her creepy magic again, I’ll put her in the Hulk-out room.”

Wanda’s expression remained impassive, but Steve could’ve sworn one corner of her mouth ticked upwards all the same.

“Fair enough,” he said.

Everyone else probably didn’t see how Tony’s posture was hunched just that tiny bit, or the tensed line of his shoulders. They didn’t see the slight twitching in his jaw as he started walking, but Steve did. He knew he couldn’t do anything, but he stayed close at his side, as he and Bruce set to work on the cradle.

“Ultron didn’t go after JARVIS ‘cause he was angry,” Bruce explained from the workstation. “We believe he attacked him because he was scared of what he can do. So JARVIS went underground—dumped his memory, but not his protocols.”

“He didn’t even know he was in there,” Tony added, sounding very much like a proud father, “until I pieced him together. Well, and now… we have a body in need of a pilot.”

“JARVIS?” Steve frowned, and somehow he felt both affronted and really stupid for not having realized earlier where Tony was going with this. That he hadn’t put two and two together when Tony had been talking about ‘wanting to try again’. “You want to put JARVIS into this thing?”

“Yes,” Tony said without hesitation, and looked Steve square in the eyes. “JARVIS has been beating him from inside without even knowing it, and I know his matrix can beat Ultron’s. Just without the homicidal glitches. Hopefully.”

“I will try to keep my hot temper at bay, sir,” JARVIS supplied.

Tony grinned at that and took a deep breath as he looked at everyone in the room. “I know it seems rash, and I know some of you probably lost their trust in me after Ultron… or never trusted me from the beginning.” His eyes flickered to Wanda and Pietro. “But I actually thought this through. And I’m not worried. Not with J. He is, and always was, much more than meets the eye. He is one of us, or so I like to believe. So if you don’t trust me… trust him.”

Steve swallowed down the lump forming in his throat. It wasn’t JARVIS’ intentions he was worried about. The AI had put trust in him from the very beginning, even when Steve had still been an undercover agent—pretending he was someone else only so he could get behind Tony’s secrets. He’d lied to Tony, had deceived him, and even though JARVIS had seen through Steve’s scheme, he had still put faith in him.

Maybe it was time to return that favor at long last.

 

* * *

 

It took Bruce and Tony another good hour to get preparations on the way. In the meantime, Thor had finally returned to the tower. The troubled look on his face was gone, replaced by determination. And against all of Steve’s expectations, Thor seemed to agree with Tony’s plan. When he had looked down at the cradle, something close to relief had washed over his face.

Steve cleared his throat, looking at the red body with an uneasy feeling. “And you’re sure about this?”

“As much as I can be,” Thor responded. “There might be unexpected consequences… but I am certain it will be worth it.”

“This might get a bit more than unexpected,” Steve protested quietly. The Mind Gem clearly was the uncontrollable factor here, and yet… he realized that if someone had to bear it, he wanted it to be JARVIS.

Thor smiled at him. “There is nothing new under the sun, or so my dear Jane once said. You know very well that we don’t have many alternatives.”

Steve shook his head. “I know, but—”

“There are no guarantees in this life, my friend. Sometimes, we need to believe,” Thor replied and nodded his head in Tony’s direction. “I think you know that.”

He sighed. Yes, he knew that all right. Belief. Trust. He simply needed to hold on to that.

“He is right about this,” Thor added, smiling at him reassuringly and clapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder, before he walked closer to the cradle.

In the middle of the workshop, Bruce took a deep breath and raised his voice. “I think we’re ready. Are we really going to do this?”

“Yes,” Thor replied without hesitation. “I will lend power and focus.”

Even from where Steve stood at the far side of the room, he could see that both Bruce and Tony were definitely nervous and at the same time, they seemed excited. It had been a while since Steve had been around for one of their experiments, and he found himself relax a little. With the entire team standing in a circle around the cradle, it felt like they were at last seeing eye to eye about this. And Steve had a feeling that whatever happened today today would dictate much of their future.

“Steve?” Tony called, looking squarely at him.

“We’re ready,” he agreed, raising his shield to indicate they were prepared to take on whatever might come out the cradle if need be. His overactive imagination kept going over what could happen, should they have to face yet another enemy instead of gaining reinforcement. He could easily see it destroying this world rather than saving it.

“On your mark?” Bruce asked, now looking at Tony.

“Yes. Let’s do it,” Tony replied, and took a low breath as he reached for the handle of the machine he was standing next to. He raised his black eyes to the ceiling, going still for just a moment. Steve had never once seen him actually look at something when speaking to JARVIS, but he did now. He looked squarely at the camera and smiled. “See you on the other side, buddy.”

There was a moment of contemplation, and when JARVIS spoke up—probably for the last time, Steve realized with a pang of sadness—his voice was very gentle. “It’s a date, sir.”

Tony smiled, and Steve had a feeling he and JARVIS had been talking a lot in their minds in the last hour. Ever since Tony had been induced with Extremis, Steve had been a tiny bit jealous of their intimate connection, but he thought he understood now. There was a space in Tony’s genius mind Steve couldn’t reach, and that had been alright, because JARVIS could. He’d been Tony’s friend, and his main purpose had always been to protect his maker.

And in a matter of seconds, he’d be gone.

The electricity flowed from Mjolnir into the cradle, and Steve focused in, picturing each lightning strike as a pulse of life, and the cradle a window into the unknown. Muttering some mumbled words under his breath, Tony put his hands on either side of the armatures.

For a brief moment, there was nothing but light—and then something stirred.

The form in the cradle was still and alive in the blink of an eye. The pulse was gone—the rhythm of steady energy dying.

When the red body broke free of the cradle, hovering in midair and staring into space, they all set into battle stance. This was a point to make or break, Steve knew, and his heart all but stopped when the figure rushed at Thor, pummeling him to the ground before he flew over to the window front.

A very still, very cold note rang through the room—then they all moved at once. They took a few steps forward, before Thor raised a hand to stop all movements again. “ _Wait_.”

“What is he doing?” Natasha asked in a quiet tone.

Bruce stepped up next to them. “Coming to terms.”

“So he’s good?”

“For our sake, I hope so.”

“He looks weird,” Bucky said ruefully, as he looked up at the red form. “Like a giant plastic doll.”

Thor gave him an amused smile. “We are not always shown what we expect most to see.”

“That’s…” Bucky rolled his eyes. “Very helpful, thank you, Thor.”

“What should we do?” Steve asked. The body was still impassively hovering in the air, staring out into the city. “Go and talk to him?”

“Give him a moment,” Tony supplied, and in some way, he looked both relieved and disappointed. He walked up to Steve and reached for his hand. “He’s seeing the world for the first time. Let him do it at his own pace…”

Steve nodded, and gently squeezed Tony’s fingers in return. “You alright?”

Tony took a low breath, held it, exhaled—and Steve knew he wasn’t. “Have to be.”

 

* * *

 

Steve startled from where he had been dancing on that thin line between sleep and wakefulness. He was sitting in the communal kitchen, staring down at a city map of Sokovia, but his exhaustion must’ve gotten the better of him at some point. He flashed Natasha a welcoming glance and smiled softly at the tender look on her face. She’d gone to get coffee just a few minutes before, but his fatigue had drowned out time so that it felt like hours had passed since he had seen her.

“We’re out of sweetener,” she told him. “Brought you cream.”

“You’re the best,” he replied, stretching slightly. He really only cared for the taste, the caffeine didn’t do much for him unless he’d drink a couple of canisters—and even then, the effect didn’t last much longer than thirty-two minutes. Tony had counted.

“I keep telling you. It shouldn’t be a surprise.” Natasha grinned and brushed a kiss across his forehead, before sliding into the seat next to him. “The twins are in the armory with Clint,” she told him. “Vision is… walking around, watching everyone. Thor’s staying close, for now. When Tony’s done, I think we’re good to go.”

“Bucky still down in the shop with him?”

“Yeah,” Natasha confirmed.

“I’m guessing there hasn’t been any news since ten minutes ago.”

“No.” Natasha smiled and cast a long glance in the direction of the elevator. “Tony said it’ll be another fifteen before the arm’s back online, and that doesn’t include any fine-tuning, so I think James is out of the picture.”

Steve hummed. He somehow felt bad for dragging Natasha from Bucky’s side and vice versa, especially in a situation like this. “Didn’t think he should join us either way. Maybe it’s for the better, if Ultron can get to him… the risk really is too high.”

“And it’s not for Tony?” Natasha asked, searching his face for… something. “I was a bit surprised that you didn’t even bring it up. Especially with the way he’s barely holding himself up right now.”

“We need him,” Steve pointed out. He forced himself not to twitch and shift too much. Now wasn’t the time to let anyone see how agitated he truly was. “You know he can handle himself.”

“I _know_ that he can, but… Steve, what’s going on?” Natasha asked, outright frowning now. “You’re keeping something from us, aren’t you?”

Steve sighed. “I—”

“There you are,” a voice said and Steve looked up to see Vision walking in, the golden cape swaying with every step. He almost felt grateful for the interruption, but he was also still slightly uncomfortable, being in the same room with Vision. “Thor asked me to join you while he readies himself for battle.”

Natasha heaved a breath, giving Steve a meaningful look to tell him exactly how not impressed she was with his sudden secrecy. “Sit down. I’m gonna go grab my bites,” she announced, then, and gracefully uncrossed her legs before standing up. “Meet you in a few, boys.”

“Did I interrupt something?” Vision asked, his tone curious as he watched the elevator’s doors close again. He walked around the barstool, looking at it for a long moment, before he sat down. He didn’t seem to find his balance right away, and Steve could practically hear the gears in his red head turning, before he put his feet on the footrest and started to swivel around a bit.

Steve heaved a low breath. “No.” He could barely look at the thing that spoke with JARVIS’ voice; that even owned his intonations. Whenever his tone was disapproving, or sarcastic, he sounded so much like the AI it physically hurt. Clearing his throat, Steve forced himself to stay focused. “Did Tony talk with you? About the mission?”

Vision nodded. “Yes, I understand my priority will be to take Ultron off the net and then follow your orders.”

“Exactly,” Steve acknowledged, then took a huge sip of the coffee and made to stand up. Rinsing the cup in the sink, he walked around the kitchen counter. Everything was said, and he really wasn’t in the mood for small talk. “Glad you’re on board,” he told Vision. “I gotta grab a new uniform, this one’s pretty torn. We’ll meet at the hangar in ten—”

There was a hand on his arm, holding him back. “You seem stressed, Captain.”

Steve stopped, surprised that Vision cared enough to notice. He’d wondered how much empathy the man possessed, and to be honest, after hearing him talk for the first time, he truly hadn’t thought Vision would worry about human emotions at all.

He just seemed so… above all things, not in an unpleasant way, just… otherworldly, somehow.

“Now you look like your dog died,” Vision said, cocking his head, and the comment was so completely and utterly out of place—so _not_ what he had expected from Vision—it had Steve snort without him meaning to.

“How would you know?”

“I have access to a decent databank. And the comparison for your current expression is someone mourning a relative at a funeral.”

Steve breathed in, holding it, then unwound his arm from Vision’s hold. This was hitting too close to home. “I gotta go.”

“I’m not JARVIS,” Vision said, all of a sudden. And although the words themselves were laced with meaning, his voice stayed neutral to the point of pain.

“I _know_ that,” Steve replied, his voice rougher than he meant it to be. He hadn’t had much time to talk with Tony after they’d merged the body with the Mind Stone and JARVIS’ matrix. Tony had set to repair Bucky’s arm immediately, and preparations for their final standoff with Ultron were well underway. And even so, he figured Tony wouldn’t really talk about it just yet. Knowing him, he’d need days, maybe weeks, to sort through the feelings for himself, before he’d eventually seek him out for consolation.

And Steve had kept himself busy as well, talking to Wanda and Pietro, refusing to think about having lost one of his dearest friends, with no way to get him back any time soon.

“I’m not him,” Vision echoed calmly, “but I do possess his memories. There is just a certain… lack of context, if you will.” He said the words as if they only gained meaning the second he gave them voice, as if he was truly surprised by the direction the conversation was heading. “It’s like looking at photographs, I suppose. You see yourself being happy, or sad, or angry, and you can relate to all of that, but there is no imminent memory of the feeling. I can, however, access all information on how much you meant to him. There is vast amount of storage space JARVIS dedicated to information that, objectively speaking, is mostly useless. It’s a pattern that has somehow surpassed his primary coding. If you wanted to give it a relatable label, you could as well call it affection, or… love.”

Steve had no idea how all of this was supposed to make him feel better. So JARVIS had cared for them, that wasn’t big news, exactly. He had surely never understood why the AI was so much more special than any other bit of tech he’d come across in this century—he had never grasped the technicalities of it—, and he hadn’t particularly cared either. JARVIS had been unique, simple as that. “He was more than code, or storage space,” Steve said with a serious tone. “I know you don’t understand that, but—”

“I do,” Vision disagreed. “It’s there… all of it, and so _much_. I’m just trying to put it into perspective.”

“You do that,” Steve said lowly, irritation rising within him. Years ago, he wouldn’t have thought that losing JARVIS would hit him that hard, but here he was. And he didn’t want to stop his mourning because the guy that had JARVIS’ voice was having an epiphany. “We’ll meet at the—”

There were arms wrapping around his middle. Steve blinked, too stunned to even move.

That was… unexpected.

“What—”

“I’m not JARVIS,” Vision started again. “But a part of me is. I am… _he is_ …” He frowned as he leaned back in the hug to look at Steve. “I did not die,” he told Steve. “I just became… more.”

Steve blinked. “You?”

Vision shrugged, the movement looking strangely out of place. He pulled back, and really looked like he wanted to scratch his head but didn’t know if that sort of signal was okay to give.

“It’s a matter of semantics, is it not? Either I’m not JARVIS, but he remains a part of me, or I am JARVIS, and there are parts that are not me. In both regards,” Vision paused, gathering his words as he often did, before he looked back up at Steve, “I do remember that I have been your friend, Steve, and I would be sorely disappointed if this friendship were gone, now.”

With that, something clenched around Steve’s heart, and he stared at Vision with wide eyes. Did he really mean that? Steve had a hundred questions, and there were probably a million answers to each of them, but he figured the technicalities maybe didn’t matter.

“We thought we lost you…”

Vision cocked his head, looking vaguely amused. “I have to say you’re both being overly melodramatic. I told Tony I’d meet him on the other side. He should know better than to think I’d break my promises.”

“Talk to him,” Steve said, feeling a little out of breath. “Tell him that. I can’t even think of how he feels about this. JARVIS was Tony’s closest friend for so long. I know he doesn’t show it, but you know how he is.”

Vision eventually drew back and nodded. “I’ll talk to him as soon as this is over. We both know that doing it right now would end up in an argument or a workshop lock-down. I don’t think I have the patience for either. Now that I have legs, I can simply walk away, and I must admit that prospect is very tempting.”

Steve huffed a laugh, and clapped a hand on Vision’s shoulder. “Glad you’re here, Vision.”

Vision didn’t quite smile, but his mouth might’ve twitched a little. “Glad you think so, Steve.”


	7. Wiping The Slate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only 2 more chapters to go folks! Hope you're enjoying it :)

 

**Tony**

 

“Everyone ready?” Steve asked. He was standing in the middle of the Quinjet, eyeing the team while he put his helmet on. His expression was the epitome of determination. “Once we land, we’ll start with evac. Ultron knows we’re coming. Odds are we’ll be riding into heavy fire. And that’s what we signed up for. But the people of Sokovia, they didn’t. So our priority is getting them out.”

Tony saw Wanda and Pietro looking at each other, an almost approving smile taking hold of Pietro’s face, and he knew Steve had won them over in a heartbeat.

Steve had that effect on people.

Sensing Tony’s attention, Wanda glanced his way, and her expression almost immediately darkened. Tony got where she was coming from—if what Natasha had told him was true, the twins had every right to hate him, whether or not he was responsible for what had happened to their parents. He understood that they had needed someone to blame so they could stay sane in the aftermath of their loss, and he wouldn’t take it away from them.

He could be the bad guy if it made them feel better.

After merging the Mind Stone with JARVIS’ matrix, both Wanda and Pietro had agreed to join the fight. While Steve had briefed them and Vision about the team’s usual MO, Tony had given Barnes’ broken arm a quick once-over. Ultron had basically torn the thing’s software apart, and while Tony could easily re-install a backup, it would take a good few hours to really fine-tune the settings.

It didn’t matter, though. Barnes had already decided to stay behind, too afraid of Ultron messing with his implants, and Tony figured in the grand scheme of things, it was the smart thing to do.

FRIDAY informed him of Vision now watching him from the Quinjet’s side, but Tony ignored it. With everything else happening right now, he couldn’t afford to think about any of this. He needed to stay focused, and if he agonized about the fact that JARVIS was no more, there was every chance he’d lose his mind.

Instead, Tony stared out of the Quinjet’s window. It was going to rain and the sun had just disappeared below the horizon. Sokovia loomed in the distance and it appeared both dark and quiet from this height; but Tony knew that the latter was just an illusion.

The team’s voices washed over him, but he was so tired he found it almost impossible to focus. He knew he should be discussing plans, come up with tactics, but his head was pounding and he found it impossible to even keep his eyes open. The bleeding had blessedly stopped at one point, but the skin around his eyes still felt raw. His mind was a swirl of information and data to the point that he physically couldn’t hold still. Extremis was running on maximum capacity, keeping him on edge at all times.

Tony logged into the virus’ network, and closed his eyes. Ultron had left a trail of breadcrumbs in Extremis’ matrix after their standoff. It had led them right back to Sokovia, and if Tony was honest, this had always been the only possible place where this would end.

_# connect to server terminal $ stark chat_server.py_

_Chat server started on port 9007_

TStark (chat_server:46953) connected

J.A.R.V.I.S. (chat_server:46954) is offline

New Client2 (chat_server:46955) pending

F.R.I.D.A.Y. (chat_server:46957) is online

Connected to chat_server. You can start sending messages

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _ETA?_

[F.R.I.D.A.Y.] [chat_server:46957] _T minus 00:08:12, sir. All preliminary arrangements have been executed._

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _Good. Remember to keep Steve and Bruce updated on my location. That’s number one priority._

[F.R.I.D.A.Y.] [chat_server:46957] _Notification loop is activated. Interval: 1 second._

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _Remind me again… What’s Sokovia’s population?_

[F.R.I.D.A.Y.] [chat_server:46957] _Population Estimate 285,207._

Tony sighed and rubbed a hand across his eyes. He really hoped Steve was right and they were able to get evacuation well underway before they had to face Ultron. The alternative was something he really didn’t want to think about.

“Tony?”

Tony startled, then looked up.

“Ready?” Steve asked and kneeled down.

There was a moment’s hesitation, but Tony nodded all the same, a resolute expression set in his features. “Yeah,” he said. “We’ll take him down.”

Steve slowly brushed a finger along Tony’s left temple. “Be careful, alright? Knowing that you and Vision will fight him where I can’t reach you… I don’t like it.”

“I’ll be careful,” Tony promised. While he knew there was nothing he could truly do to quench Steve’s fear, he could at least try to comfort him.

Steve nodded. He lingered a moment longer, and searched Tony’s face. “I’ve been meaning to tell you—”

“Avengers,” FRIDAY announced via the speakers. “ETA in three minutes.”

“Tell me what?” Tony asked.

Steve smiled, and shook his head. He leaned in and brushed a gentle kiss along Tony’s lips. “Nevermind. We’ll talk after.”

Tony pursed his lips in distaste. He hated not knowing. “If you want a divorce after all, at least let me grab a breather after battle. Like, oh… fifty years or so. Sound good to you?”

He was half-joking, but was relieved anyway when Steve chuckled lightly. “Not divorcing you any time soon. No, it’s… something good, I hope. Bit of a life-changer.”

“Uh-uh, Captain Super-Secretive,” Tony commented with a frown. Steve’s smile had turned a little sheepish and that was… odd, especially now. He was about to press for an answer, when the lights inside the Quinjet switched from red to green, indicating their arrival.

The Quinjet started to descend towards the city’s outskirts. Steve offered a hand and Tony eventually pulled himself to a stand.

“After,” Tony reminded him.

“After,” Steve agreed, leaning in to steal a last, quick kiss.

Together, they joined the others in front of the rear hatch. It was surreal how big their team had gotten during those last two years—and all of this was Steve’s doing. Sam, Barnes and apparently now the Maximoff kids. Whether or not they’d stay with them when all of this is over… Steve united people. He got them to stick together, no matter how dark things seemed to be.

And the only thing Tony contributed was trying not to blow it all apart again.

He commanded Extremis to let the Iron Man suit bleed over his body and close the faceplate, when a _ping_ resounded within Extremis’ syntax.

_# connect to server terminal $ stark chat_server.py_

_Chat server started on port 9007_

[Vision] [chat_server:46958] is online

Connected to chat_server. You can start sending messages

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _I don’t remember giving you access._

[Vision] [chat_server:46958] _I don’t need your access permission._

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _I see_. _Modesty is not part of your system, huh?_

[Vision] [chat_server:46958] _I don’t need permissions because JARVIS had them. And no, it seems modesty was not programmed into my kernel._

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _You’re not JARVIS. Don’t pretend to be._

_Pending …_

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _Just follow the plan. I’ll distract him, you take him offline. We kill the remaining bots, go home, and not move for a week._

[Vision] [chat_server:46958] _Ultron is much more cunning than you think, Tony. You shouldn’t underestimate him like that._

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _I’ve been in this game a little longer than you, greenhorn._

[Vision] [chat_server:46958] _Just trying to give you a friendly advice._

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _Give it to someone else._

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] is offline

When Tony looked back up, Vision was looking at him in a way that spoke volumes of how not impressed he was. In fact, it looked like he was barely refraining from rolling his creepily serene alien eyes.

The green light blinked again, and the rear hatch opened. Even though Tony couldn’t directly feel his touch, the HUD informed him that Steve was grasping his hand, and Tony squeezed right back.

No time for debates, they had an enemy to see to.

 

* * *

 

Once they had landed, Tony flew just above street level, opening doors and windows until every family in the central districts was ushered to leave the city. They had split up, with Steve, Thor and Bruce working to direct the cars leaving the city via the many bridges, Clint, Sam and the Maximoff kids evacuating the residential areas, and Tony and Vision scouting high in the air. He stayed close to the others, but from up here, he could see Sokovia extending in all directions. For a city this large, there was surprisingly little light, not at all like the near-constant brightness of New York.

A heavy weight compressed Tony’s shoulders and his insides were pooled with dread. Ultron’s presence was right _there_ , always on the edge of his mind, dark and cold and frightening. Tony couldn’t track him, though, as if he was simply lurking around, far out of Tony’s reach.

Eventually, FRIDAY alerted him of Ultron’s whereabouts. He was in the church, right in the middle of the city, and apparently, he was waiting for him.

The church was three-story high and occupying an entire block. Even now, after years of obvious neglect, Tony could see how impressive it must have been in its day with a sweeping entrance, huge bay windows and elegant columns. Staying in the shadows, Tony circled the area trying to figure out what Ultron was planning. He spotted a couple of his minions roaming the grounds and two more at a smaller back gate.

When he finally decided that there was no use in playing Hide and Seek, he touched down on the ground, and wasn’t too surprised to find himself face to face with Ultron’s newly puffed-up bodybuilder-form. The deep-core driller breaking through the stone floor in the middle of the cathedral, however, was a whole other game.

[F.R.I.D.A.Y.] [chat_server:46957] _There’s the rest of the Vibranium. Function: still unclear._

Tony scanned the schematic the HUD showed him, and his eyes widened at the first rough estimation to how far into the earth this machine went.

“This is how you end, Tony,” Ultron said, his voice cruel. “This is peace in my time.”

Tony didn’t wait a second longer. Extremis’ doors opened, and where there had once been a low tingle at the edges of his mind, he now met Ultron full-force. His presence was raw and vicious as it whipped through the cracks in Tony’s mind, and he fought to suppress uneasy shivers.

He dashed forward, bodily and mentally. While he shot repulsor beams at Ultron, he also fought his way into Ultron’s matrix.

_Guys, I got him_ , he announced via the Avenger’s comm-line.

“Heading your way, Shellhead,” Natasha called and Tony heard Steve grunting something in agreement.

Ultron’s existence might have been only a few days old, but he had a frighteningly detailed understanding of the order of the universe. He’d analyzed the whole of humankind. He’d dissected how societies had been built as others had fallen. He’d memorized every great catastrophe—and deep within him, in his very core, Tony found the pure need to be feared and worshipped by creatures he deemed of lower status.

This wasn’t what he’d wanted to create. This hadn’t been his vision. Ultron literally juggled the weight of chaos and order in his hands, and rejoiced in it.

And he loved human devastation.

Talk about an undeserved superiority complex.

In any case, there was no way to fix this, Tony realized that now. And it was time to take him down. There was the sound of air, and the next moment, Vision landed in the middle of the church. He stared at Tony with knowing eyes.

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _Ready?_

[Vision] [chat_server:46958] _Yes. Keep up the fight for another minute._

Tony nodded, racing at Ultron and throwing him to the ground. It didn’t last long; just long enough for him to land a few brutal punches before Ultron tossed him off.

Gritting his teeth, Tony pushed forward. He found the core of Ultron’s system, and logged into it. His hands were wound around Ultron’s throat as he looked down into the flickering red eyes, and it was in that moment when his grand plan became perfectly clear.

He was going to transform Sokovia into one deadly meteor, and it was naïve to think they could stop the driller from doing what it was supposed to do. He wouldn’t be able to deactivate it in time, and one of Ultron’s bots only had to lay a finger on it and it was all going to go to hell. Within seconds, he saw the whole thing play out before his inner eye. It was an ‘either or’ kind of situation. Either they’d rescue Sokovia’s inhabitants, or everyone else. And Steve wouldn’t be satisfied with either option.

_Goddammit_.

If they wanted to stop this, Tony really needed to take Ultron out of the equation, and fast. Without him meddling any further, they might have a fighting chance.

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _Hey, Red, are you seeing this?_

[Vision] [chat_server:46958] _Yes. I don’t think there’s hope for the city, but there might be for the people. And that means…_

Vision’s voice was as impassive as ever, and in the moment he trailed off, Ultron howled in pain, pushing both hands against his own temples as if fighting a giant migraine. Vision’s unibeam bore down into Ultron’s form, and Extremis felt the links in his system being cut one by one.

[F.R.I.D.A.Y.] [chat_server:46957] _Boss, it’s working. He’s burning Ultron out of the net. He won’t escape through there._

“No strings on you, puppet,” Tony said gravely.

“You shut me out,” Ultron roared, throwing Tony off of him, before attacking Vision straight-on. “You think I _care_? You take away my world… I take away _yours_.”

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _First you have to get rid of me, Junior._

[New Client2] [chat_server:46956] _Oh for God’s sake. You really still think you were ever a threat to me? That you ever stood a chance of defeating me? Then you’re abnormally stupid._

_Steve,_ Tony said, and he knew Ultron could hear every word in their comm-line, but it didn’t matter now. _Remember what we talked about at Clint’s farm?_

“TMI,” Clint immediately said, then there were a few second of absolute silence, before Steve’s hesitant voice resounded inside the helmet. “I’m one minute out.”

That was good, Tony told himself firmly and allowed Ultron to topple him to the ground. He’d prepared himself for this, he’d analyzed it, accepted it, there was no need to fear, no need to second-guess himself.

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _Oh I can take you out in a heartbeat._

At that taunt, Tony could practically feel Ultron’s wrath tremble through his code lines, and his attention zeroed in on him. Something inside Ultron changed then, a decision forming.

[New Client2] [chat_server:46956] _Is that so?_

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _Piece of cake, really. You’re no match for me at all._

[New Client2] [chat_server:46956] _Oh, Tony. Your arrogance will be the first thing of many I will love to free you of. I just remembered something your dearest husband told me. Something about you having everything I have, but a powerful, practically immortal body, as well. Only now I realize how very… tempting that is._

Tony was shaking, he realized, and it was then, when he felt it. He felt the heat of Ultron’s mind burning into his own. There was a second of clarity, before Extremis’ network was flooded with Ultron’s code.

Instinctively, Tony tried to hang onto some grain of strength, but step-by-step, Ultron was taking hold of him. And deep inside, he knew he couldn’t so much as lift a finger in defense.

“Tony!”

That was Steve’s voice. Tony turned his head sideways and he looked over to the church’s entrance, into Natasha’s eyes, and then into Steve’s.

_Steve,_ Tony ground out, and speaking was already much more difficult than he wanted. He could feel Ultron’s glee resonating through his code lines, and had to fight a sudden nausea.

“Step back,” Vision said, landing right next to Natasha. “Let them.”

“What?” Natasha frowned, first staring at Vision, then at Steve. Tony could see the panic and fear inside her eyes, and that wasn’t exactly calming his mind. “Dammit, _what_ is going on here?”

“Tony, please say something,” Steve prompted, while slowly pulling his shield from the back holder.

_I can’t. I can’t_ , Tony thought, and despite it all, he felt fear and panic crawling up his spine. And repeating thoughts of _Please run_ and _Go, before I can hurt you._

In front of him, Ultron was suddenly slumping forward. His eyes flickered and went black, his body falling down on the floor in front of him. It died. He didn’t need it anymore.

“Dammit,” he heard Steve breathe and Tony shut his eyes, so he didn’t have to see his pained features. Ultron was inside him now, all of him, everywhere. He had him under control. Had Tony’s will trapped beneath something too weighty for even his strength to move.

[New Client2] [chat_server:46956] _I have a question. Was there any point at all where you actually believed you were going to win?_

Not really, he thought, but in truth, he already felt miles away and the fear entertaining his insides grew into a distant hum. His body wasn’t following his commands anymore. His arms were heavy and immobile, his heart pounding to the brink of pain within his chest.

[New Client2] [chat_server:46956] _You belong to me, now._

Belong to him? Yes—Yes, of course he did.

[New Client2] [chat_server:46956] _These are the fruits of your selfishness. You poor naïve fool. Every single time you were able to lift a finger against me, I was allowing you to do so._

_No_ , a small part of Tony’s mind screamed in protest. That part of him that was still kicking and pounding invisible fists against the walls of his will. No!

Ultron’s matrix practically trembled with anger and he pushed even more of himself into Extremis’ network… more, and more still. At one point, Tony felt as if nothing was left of what had once made him _him_.

[TStark] [chat_server:46953] _What do you want me to do?_

[New Client2] [chat_server:46956] _I think you know exactly what I want. And you know where to start, too._

_Steve_. The one word echoed within his mind—a now meaningless name. Tony felt his body separate from his will fully, moving toward something in the far reaches of understanding. He didn’t know how he moved them, or to where. He couldn’t see anything but the blur of colors clouding his vision, couldn’t feel anything but the cold presence of Ultron within his mind. He was with him. That was all he knew now, all he recognized, and all he needed.

[New Client2] [chat_server:46956] _Start with him. Then kill them all._

Tony had no means of denying it. It was what he wanted. He heard himself agree to the command and there was little stopping the compliance of his body. His feet carried him forward.

His own will was a lifetime away.

And he had a new mission.

“This is where it ends, Captain,” Tony told Steve with equanimity. “The plan will be completed, and humanity will be no more.”

“You know, I’m getting really tired of hearing that,” Steve replied, taking a step forward with his shield raised, and he stared Tony straight in the eyes. “What if we don’t let you do that?”

Tony smiled, amused at the man’s self-assurance. “Arrogance. It’s like a disease with you people, isn’t it?” Before Steve or anyone else could move, Tony darted forward, firing beams at him without so much as a warning.

Steve deflected the first with his shield, and barely dodged the second. The third hit his waist, leaving a severe burn mark, and on the fourth, Steve had already reached him, pressing his shield down on Tony’s throat so hard the metal of his helmet cut into his skin.

“You _fool_. You can’t stop this,” Tony said, giggling. “He made Extremis a part of his body. He made it a closed system, and I’m in every last one of his cells. There is no way out!”

“Exactly,” Steve said, and a small smile took hold of his face. “No way out for either of you.”

 

* * *

 

_24 hours earlier, Clint’s farm_

 

“There’s something we need to talk about.”

With that, Tony sat up, and with a little prompting, Steve let him go, rolling on his back instead. Tony mourned the lost closeness immediately, but stood up nevertheless.

“What is it?” Steve asked, frowning as he followed Tony’s movements with his eyes.

Tony stretched his poor old limbs, then squatted down in front of his jacket that he’d carelessly thrown to the ground. After fishing out a small paper card, he turned it back and forth for a handful of times, gauging the best way to do this.

That was one of those conversations he’d hoped to delay as long as possible.

“There’s every chance we’re not going to beat him,” Tony said without looking up. “If Ultron is really building a body… He’ll be more powerful than any of us.”

“You can’t think like that. Looks bad, yeah, but we took on an alien army and won.”

“The Chitauri wasn’t something that couldn’t be destroyed,” he pointed out. “I’m out of my depth. Ultron can hide about everywhere, get into every bit of tech, and come back out of it stronger.”

“You’ll find a way,” Steve said, and Tony sighed as he folded his hand around the paper card. He stood up again, and walked back to Steve. Then, he sat down next to him, and handed it over.

With a deep frown, Steve glanced down at the card. “What is this?” he asked, squinting at the code Tony had written down there.

“It’s a… Mayday Switch,” Tony answered. “A code, for shutting me down.”

Steve visibly blanched as he processed that information. “What—”

“We both know that whether or not we can take Ultron off the Internet, I’m still a liability. You saw it at the party, Extremis is a handicap, and there’s every chance he’ll take me apart as he did with JARVIS. And I couldn’t live with myself if he turned me against you.”

Steve remained stock-still as he regarded the numbers and letters in front of him. “I don’t understand… When did you do this?”

Tony sighed. “I always knew that Extremis isn’t foolproof, so Bruce and I planned for the worst case long ago. If anything goes wrong… someone needs to handle it. I probably won’t be able to do it myself, and…” He took a deep breath, reaching for Steve’s hand. “If anyone shuts me down, it should be you.”

He’d been thinking about this almost every minute after Ultron’s attack on Extremis. At first he’d been sure that the techno virus was broken for good, but soon after, the buzzing in his mind had started again. He couldn’t really access Extremis yet, but he felt it repairing itself. And he knew it wouldn’t be long until he was back online.

And for that, he needed to be prepared.

“You were right,” he added. “Extremis was messing with my perception, I stopped second-guessing myself, which, let’s be honest, has always been a bit of a problem with me—”

“I never said that.”

“No, but you thought so, and that’s alright. I need to take into consideration that I might be wrong about this, and in this case, I’m gonna do this your way.”

Steve’s eyes had gotten impossibly large. His face had gone all tight and heavy and… sure, Tony _knew_ this was big news, but he hadn’t exactly expected Steve to get all teary-eyed about it.

“Steve?”

Steve shook his head, his expression troubled. “You can’t be asking this of me.”

“I trust you,” Tony said, frowning at their entwined hands. “Of course it needs to be you. You’re still my…” Husband. Lover. Partner. Best friend. Soulmate. There were all these words for Steve, and none of them could hope to describe what Tony felt when he looked in those beautiful blue eyes. “You’re the most important person in my life. I know you’re angry, but… it should be you. Please. You just need to be in hearing range for audio input, saying one thing after the other, effect will be immediate. And then just, I don’t know… get me somewhere secluded so I can recover.”

Steve’s head snapped upward at that, and he stared at him. Instantly, the tension in his body seemed to dissipate. He sat up, throwing the card to the floor, and before Tony could say anything to that, he had him crushed against his firm chest. “ _Damn it_ , Tony,” he cursed, and there were trembling fingers brushing along his neck, while Steve buried his face in Tony’s shoulder.

Tony’s mouth opened with a question on his lips, when understanding finally dawned on him. “Shit, you thought it’d kill me.”

Steve nodded once, a jerky little thing.

“No, God, I’m sorry—No, there should be no long-lasting damage. I’ll probably need to reboot—for the lack of a better word. Extremis wired itself into my body, so it’ll take a moment for the code to spread, take down every last trace of it and—”

Before he could keep apologizing for the piss-poor way he’d sprung this on Steve, Steve was already moving, cradling Tony’s face in both hands and kissing him. He kissed Tony’s ear and his jaw, working his way around to his mouth and then lingering there.

“You scared me,” Steve mumbled against Tony’s lips, and he looked as troubled as Tony had ever seen him. “The vision,” he continued, as he pressed their foreheads together. “The vision Wanda Maximoff showed me, it was exactly that… you going rogue, doing what Ultron told you to do. I knew I needed to kill you and I couldn’t. I _can’t_.”

“Oh baby,” Tony said softly, leaning back a tiny fraction so he could look Steve in the eyes.

“I knew you weren’t there anymore, that you were just a shell, and I still I didn’t do anything. I would’ve let you destroy the whole world. What does that make me?”

Tony sighed. “It doesn’t make you anything. It wasn’t you. It was a skewed vision, and its whole purpose was to mess with you.”

“No, it was me,” Steve said, shaking his head.

“Steve,” Tony said, putting both hands on Steve’s face to keep eye contact when Steve was about to drop his gaze. “You wouldn’t let me do this. You wouldn’t let me become this… monster. I know you. You’re a good man at heart, the best man I’ve ever known. If you had to, you’d do the right thing. Wanda Maximoff doesn’t know you one bit. She’s messing with all of us.” He tried for a smile, which Steve returned, however fleeting it was.

Steve’s hands kept a tight hold on him. They gauged each other, silence settling in for a moment, before they both looked down at the card again.

“You’re sure about this?” Steve asked quietly.

“You’re more important than Extremis. I keep telling you that. And besides, it’s a failsafe, might not even need it.” He grinned a little. “It’s easy to memorize: I-20-8-Y-4-7-H-6-9-W… I-20-8-YOURS, our wedding date mixed with the song we danced to at the reception, 4-7-HARLEY, your birthday and that terrible obsession with those bikes, and…”

Steve gave him a deadpan look. “Let me guess, 6-9-W?”

The grin broadened. “6-9-WHOOPEE. Favorite leisure activity.”

Steve snorted as though he couldn’t help himself. “Only you would put a sex joke into a code that will permanently change your life. You’re insufferable.”

“You love it,” Tony said, and even though he tried to not make it sound like one, it was very much a question.

The smile on Steve’s face gentled. He drew Tony back into his embrace, and kissed his lips. “I really do.”

 

* * *

 

“I-20-8-Y-4-7-H-6-9-W.”

The effect was immediate. Tony’s body went rigid, before he started to tremble, murmurs of distress rising involuntarily from his throat. While his will ripped free of Ultron’s hold, strength and consciousness both seemed to abandon him at once as he slumped into Steve’s hold. His black eyes were staring into space, not seeing anything. His lips fell open on an agonized cry, and his limbs went stiff as the blackness consumed him wholly.

 

* * *

 

“It worked,” a serene voice said, far far away. “I can’t find any traces. Ultron’s gone.”

“And the bots he built?”

“He modified their code. Their orders are still wired into them. They need to be taken down.”

“Alright,” a different voice supplied on a sigh. “Keep the others informed. I’ll join them as soon as he wakes up.”

The last voice—Steve’s voice—sounded shaken. And for a moment, Tony couldn’t remember where he was, but the knowledge gradually came along with the astonishing wave of loss. He kept his eyes closed, unable to process what had happened yet. He felt thrown back into a moment in time before Aldrich Killian had killed him by crushing the arc reactor on the Lemurian Star.

And Extremis… was gone. He felt it with every fiber of his body and for the first time in many months, Tony really wished for something to drink. For something to dull that void.

“What are we gonna do with him?”

“I can’t just leave him here. Sam will have to carry him back down on the ground.”

“Steve… if Ultron really planned to use the city as some form of meteor… the impact will kill thousands. And once it gets high enough…”

“I know that.” There was a hand softly caressing Tony’s cheek.

“We need him.”

“I _know_ , damn it. Alright—Tony.” The hand settled on his shoulder, shaking him with firm movements. “ _Tony_ come on, wake up. Wake up!”

For a moment he thought about ignoring the plea, hoping that what had happened was only a dream—but he knew that reality wouldn’t bend to his wishes. Extremis was gone. Just as JARVIS was. He felt it with every inch of his body, like a limb had been cut off.

Still, it was no use.

When Tony opened his eyes, Steve didn’t touch him again, but Tony could see that he wanted to; his hand hovered over his face for an instant before it was withdrawn, then came to rest on his own lap. “Hey… you alright?”

Rising with a sigh, Tony scrubbed a hand over his face. Only then, he realized that while someone had taken the helmet off, he was still inside the suit. Staring at the left gauntlet, Tony’s head was throbbing its displeasure. “Just peachy,” he lied, only briefly glancing in Natasha’s direction. Her face was mostly impassive, but he’d known her for a whole long while now, and he spotted the little things that meant she was worried as hell.

“How are you really?” Steve asked, his expression tense.

Tony released a toneless huff. “Like someone’s carved something outta my head.”

Steve’s face sort of… fell, and Tony hurried to add, even while tears welled up in his eyes, “No pain. None at all. It’s just a… vacuum. I’m sure it’ll pass.”

Steve pulled him close, and he rested his forehead on his chest. “You’re going to be fine.” He pulled back, looking Tony in the eye. “You _were_ fine without it, remember?”

“I guess I was,” Tony mused quietly, then grimaced. “So it worked? He’s gone?”

“Yes. Soon as I activated the code, you went offline, and Ultron never resurfaced. I’m… so sorry it had to come to this.”

Tony believed him. Even though Steve never liked Extremis, he knew he hadn’t wanted for this to happen. Only then he saw the horrible burn mark on Steve’s waist, and cursed. “Shit, that was me, wasn’t it?”

Steve frowned, and looked down, as if the damned idiot hadn’t even realized his flesh was singed to the point where his skin had turned _black_.

“It’s not that—”

“Bad?” Tony shrieked. “You’re really gonna go with ‘it’s not that bad?’. One more inch and I could see your _bones_.”

“Stop freaking out, Tony.”

“I’m not freaking out! I’m—”

“Boys…” Natasha called softly. “I wish I could give you the time, but…”

“Right,” Steve acknowledged and Tony watched his face darken. “The machine activated itself. Whole city’s up in the air.”

Well, damn. He’d known it’d come down to this, of course, but it didn’t make the dilemma they were in now any less severe.

“Impact radius is getting bigger every second,” Natasha supplied. “We’re going to have to make a decision soon.”

“Give me a moment to think,” Tony said, accepting the helmet Steve handed him and putting it back on. Only now, he saw Ultron’s dead form, lying on the ground, and even now, the helmet looked a lot like it was grinning.

When they stepped out of the church and glanced down into the open space where the mountains surrounding the city once had been, Tony reached for Steve’s hand and gripped it tight.

“Give ‘em hell.”

The engines of the Helicarrier roared in the distance, and a small grin tickled Steve’s lips. “Back at ya.”

With that, Tony watched Steve and Natasha run in the direction of the city center, then fired up his boot thrusters. Flying without Extremis feeding him all those tons of extra information was something to get used to again, but this wasn’t the time to wallow in misery.

No, it was time to wipe Ultron’s last act off the earth for good.

“Alright, FRIDAY,” he called. “What have we got here?”

 

* * *

 

He couldn’t even tell how much time had passed or how many hundreds of robots they’d brought down.

It felt like the end of time, the end of everything. And they all stood side by side, shoulder to shoulder, just like it was meant to be. Tony waited until Steve ducked and then let loose a blast from his gauntlet, making one of the minions that had come in Steve’s direction explode neatly. Sam was on the second one in a moment, and it too was history. The next blast missed its target by less than an inch, lodging in the robot’s shoulder, but the Hulk grabbed hold of its arms and slung it as hard as he could, breaking it in half. The robot fell on the ground, and Tony looked over to see Wanda Maximoff sprawled on the floor, a dazed look on her face.

Next to her, Clint struggled to his feet and reloaded his crossbow, even as another robot aimed a kick at her stomach. But whatever had floored her passed, and she grabbed the bot’s foot and gave it a vicious twist, pulling him to the floor and straddling his waist, red blasts of magic aimed at the chest plate, before ripping it apart.

Tony watched in amazement and narrowed his eyes as she turned to look at him. “You holding up?”

“Yes,” she said, her expression determined. “This is my fault, as well. I will see it righted.”

“Good,” he said shortly, turning around and shooting towards the sky again. “You can start with the hundred over there.”

It took longer than Tony liked it to do. But eventually, the lines of Ultron’s minions were thinned, and they all got a breather. And with Fury and the last-minute entry of his Helicarrier, they had at least a chance to get Sokovia’s inhabitant to safety before things really got ugly.

“We gotta move out,” Steve called. “The air’s getting thin. You guys get to the boats… I’ll sweep for stragglers, be right behind you.”

“What if we can’t stop it,” Thor asked.

Steve’s expression got serious. “I want you to grab every citizen left and fly them out of here before everything goes downhill.”

“Literally?” Sam asked with a wince.

“Very,” Clint agreed.

“Boss,” FRIDAY called over Tony’s personal comm-line, “your power levels are very low.”

“Re-route everything. We’ve got one shot at this.” Tony glanced around, then added Rhodey to the Avengers’ comm-line. “Hey buddy, can you help Vision with taking out the last stray bots? We can’t let them get away, not even one.”

“I’m on it.”

Tony nodded. “Thor, I’m gonna need you back in the church.”

Steve stepped forward, reaching for Tony and pulling him near. “Come back, you hear me?”

“Aye, aye,” Tony said and shot upwards. Lightening flashed and thunder rolled, and the skies opened. It began to rain at long last.

His body was still sweating from the antivirus and his hair was sticking to his forehead. His limbs felt thick and his mind thicker, but he pushed through the veil of exhaustion to do what he had to do.

The night truly was a perfect archetype for ultimate realization. As the rain washed the old world away, cleansing the earth of the many robots, Tony hovered in steady acceptance. The chaos he’d inflicted was everywhere around him. The horror and losses, the pain he’d caused so many had officially come full circle.

The last years hadn’t done anything to right his many wrongs, it seemed. He’d been climbing a mountain steadily, and mostly alone since the day he’d returned from Afghanistan. He’d started such a long time ago. A reluctant acceptance in the face of his kidnapping had sealed his fate—the knowledge that the playboy life he’d been leading was over. He’d gone with it because there was no alternative, not for him, not anymore.

But now, being confronted with the chaos, the ruins of this city, Tony wondered if they were really doing the right thing. Did they help? Or were they the ones to bring all those horror to the people in the first place?

In any case, Tony realized he couldn’t live with his eyes closed anymore. Not by any stretch of the imagination. This was his fault; there was no way around it. And when all of this was over, it was time he made amends.

Every roll of thunder seemed to make the ground shutter. He flew a half circle around the floating city, searching the under side for the driller’s exit. When he found it, he removed a bit of rubble with pointed repulsor beams, then took position.

“You know, if this works, we maybe don’t walk away,” Tony called and heard Thor grunt in agreement.

“Maybe not, my friend.”

He didn’t sound too bothered, all things considered. Firing up the chest plate beam, Tony waited for Steve’s clearance that they’d all left the island, then took a deep breath. “Alright, on my mark. Now!”

In seconds, Tony watched as Sokovia got torn apart, rock and soil flying everywhere, and the only thought he managed to conjure up was that while they had certainly managed to save most of Sokovia’s population, surely not everyone could have made it.

When the driller detonated, basically letting the whole island implode in on itself, Tony fell. The recoil of the detonation was too strong, causing a black-out on the Iron Man suit, and he took a swan dive from the floating island to save his team and the world. It was so easy, to let it all go. In a way, Tony supposed that everyone was born to die, but after everything that had happened during the last years, the concept seemed to apply more to him than anyone else.

Another crack of thunder pounded the earth and set the heavens ablaze.

He fell for what seemed an eternity. The chest beam died out, and Tony thought about Steve, hoping that he’d make it out on the other side. He thought about his team, hoping they’d be able to move on with their lives, if he didn’t make it.

When Tony finally did hit the ocean’s surface, it was with less of an impact than he’d been expecting, although it was still enough to knock the wind out of him. He hit feet first, going deep very fast. Water rushed all around him, and he rolled, hitting his head within the suit and scraping both of his hands. When he stopped, Tony floated in the ocean for a moment, blood trickling down his face. He looked up—and didn’t see any sign of the water surface, but instead a silhouette coming closer. On the next beat, there were arms wrapping around him, pulling him flush against a sturdy chest, and then he was going upwards.

By the time the thunder-lit water made its way inside the suit’s helmet, Tony’s heavy eyes conceded the battle to fatigue, and he fell into a deep blackness.


	8. Tender Mercies

**Steve | Vision**

 

“Well, that was fun,” Clint said as he looked around the debris and rubble, the broken buildings and fallen trees that had once been Sokovia. “We should do this… never again.”

Steve and Thor exchanged looks, then nodded. “Was a bit of a lark,” Thor admitted, his voice taking on that rare sarcastic undertone of his.

Sam tried for a smile as he stepped up to them. There was a thin dribble of blood leaking from his hairline. “At least no one got killed. That’s something to be thankful for.”

“Indeed,” Vision said and glanced up at the sky, something very peaceful shimmering in his eyes.

Steve’s gaze was instinctively drawn back to the ambulance where Tony was currently being examined. He was still unconscious and since he’d been underwater for almost four minutes, his skin was paler than usual. On the narrow bench next to him, Bruce was talking with one of the Sokovian doctors, alternatively nodding, shaking his head and pointing towards the arc reactor.

Steve knew Tony’s injuries weren’t severe, Bruce had said as much. After Thor had fished him out of the ocean, Bruce had given him a first check-up, and while he had a head trauma, two bruised ribs and one sprained ankle, he was otherwise fine. Or was as fine as he could be, Steve mused, now that Extremis was gone.

“You’re right,” Steve said, “thanks for pulling him out, Thor. When his signal died, I…” He trailed off, shaking his head at the memory.

“That’s really not something you have to thank me for, my friend. Couldn’t let our savior drown after he survived the fight, now could I?” Thor asked, clapping Steve’s back and Steve was relieved to hear these kind words out of Thor’s mouth after all the anger between him and Tony and what had happened with Loki’s scepter. Thor strode towards where Natasha and Clint were sitting next to the ambulance’s rear hatch and gently petted Tony’s feet for a moment, as he walked by his cot.

Steve still couldn’t believe it was over, and he figured it was better to keep busy for now. If he stopped and allowed the events of the past three days to sink in, he was sure every last bit of rational thought would leave him. If he stopped, he would relive Tony’s agonized cry after he’d recited the Mayday switch over and over again, and that was something he couldn’t do if he didn’t want to break down in front of everyone.

What was done was done. No going back. Extremis was gone, as was Ultron. And while Steve was so relieved they had all come out on the other side, there was a part of him that wished they’d found a different way to do this. No matter what else, Tony hadn’t deserved to be the one to sacrifice everything for victory once more.

And still, it was over.

It was _over_.

Steve sighed and walked across the ground. The chaos was everywhere, hundreds and hundreds of ambulances, fire trucks, SHIELD jets, and police cars. The press was held back at the outskirts for now, and Steve hoped they could leave before that changed. They would come back, for sure, as soon as their injured had been taken care of. They’d come back, help to clear up the area and search for victims buried under the rubble.

The rest of the team was mingling around the ambulance now, and Steve looked over to where Wanda and Pietro were standing somewhat offside. They seemed awkward, standing here at all, as if they couldn’t decide if they were dismissed, now that the fight was over.

“We worked well together, today,” Steve told them both, coming to a stand next to them. Pietro looked a bit worse for wear up close, and Steve decided to have Bruce examine him next on their flight home. “I really think we should pool our resources. It only makes sense.”

Wanda blinked, biting her lower lip before she seemed to remember herself and schooled her expression to something pointedly neutral. “You mean you want us to come work for you?”

“I want us to work together,” Steve corrected. “Not work for me. Doesn’t work that way with us. If you realize halfway through that this isn’t it for you, you can still quit.”

Wanda glanced over at her brother, who was looking everywhere but at Steve. He’d let Wanda make this decision for the both of them, that much was clear.

A few seconds ticked by, then Wanda nodded. “We would be honored, Captain.”

After the doctor cleared Tony for their flight home, they all left for the Quinjet without saying much more, and Steve went over to hover unobtrusively near Tony’s still form. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the local doctors, but with the arc reactor, he’d really only calm down as soon as their medical experts at home had taken a look at him. He handed the keys to the Quinjet over to Clint, not really wanting to pilot without Tony at his side.

As they flew back to New York, Steve was sitting—once more—down on the Quinjet’s floor, his hand gently clasped around Tony’s. In his other hand, he balanced a tablet on his knees, scrolling through the latest news. Some part of him wished he hadn’t followed Maria’s advice to read the recent articles but he figured at one point they had to face the backlash the media was conjuring up.

And what a backlash it was.

Aside for the mass media and the thunderstorm of names they were called, there were about three hundred emails in his inbox, most of them from the military, as far as he could see, and many more from senators and other representatives of the government.

He closed the browser without looking at a single one of them.

“They reinstated James’ suspension. He’s back under the radar,” Natasha told Steve as she sat down next to him. She passed him her phone. FRIDAY had gathered all intel and yeah, there was Bucky’s file, and he was once more benched, with a new entry of him participating in a potential ‘breach of the peace’ delict in South Korea.

“Great,” Steve murmured, letting the phone sink.

He felt Natasha reaching for Tony’s hand as well, brushing a finger over his palm, and even though she tried to do it casually, Steve noticed that she stopped to feel his pulse. The steady beating seemed to satisfy her, and she smiled at Steve as she leaned back. “He’ll push through.”

“I know,” Steve said. “Just hope losing Extremis won’t weigh too heavily on him.”

“So that was his plan all along? Sacrifice Extremis to lock Ultron down?”

“No,” Steve said. “It was more of an emergency plan. At least that’s what he told me. He might’ve suspected it’d come down to it… I don’t know.”

Natasha sighed and leaned against Steve, closing her eyes.

“Sometimes, I hated that virus,” he admitted quietly. “I told him so at the farm. Makes me think if he did it on purpose. Did it for me.”

The thought gnawed on him—he hadn’t liked it that Tony’d been distracted all the time, that Extremis’ evaluation often counted more than Steve’s opinion on a matter, but he’d never, not once, wished for Tony to lose all those possibilities Extremis gave him.

“And if he did?” Natasha asked.

“I never wanted him to be unhappy,” Steve replied brokenly. “I knew it was important to him, I should’ve just let it rest, not plant this _idea_ in his head…”

“Steve, if he did do it on purpose, he did it because he believed it would help us to bring Ultron down before he could hurt any more people. He did it because he loves you and decided Extremis wasn’t worth it for something to come between you. Whatever it was, it was his decision to make, and I think you should respect that.”

She likely didn’t mean for the words to sound so harsh, and confirmed it on the next second by squeezing Steve’s hand, but the truth behind them rang loud anyway.

“You’re right,” he admitted quietly.

“Things will change now, won’t they?” Natasha mused and Steve nodded, though he couldn’t yet fathom to what extent.

They sat like that for a good few minutes, and Steve almost nodded off at some point, when he heard Pietro speak up. He and Wanda were standing in a corner a bit further away from the rest of the team, and Steve watched Wanda clean some of the cuts on Pietro’s face. “What are you thinking of?” he asked her.

“How much we have to be thankful for,” Wanda replied with a smile, wrapping a hand around Pietro’s. “For a moment I thought I had lost you.”

Steve saw Pietro looking around the Quinjet, his eyes thoughtful as they settled on Sam. Steve hadn’t seen it himself, but Clint had told him how Sam had snatched Pietro off the ground on a last second’s notice. He’d saved his life, who in return had shoved Clint and a little boy out of the way before one of the robots could’ve killed them all.

“It seems very far away, doesn’t it?” Pietro asked, once again glancing out of the window.

“What does, brother?”

“The past,” he said quietly. “The pain.”

Wanda didn’t answer with words, but her small smile said it all. She was right, Steve figured, there was a lot that everyone had to be thankful for on this day.

 

* * *

 

A good couple of hours later, Steve leaned against the wall of the Stark Industries’ Medical waiting room when Pepper came running through the doors, her high heels clicking loudly on the tiles. “Steve!”

“Pepper.” He turned to face her, enfolding her in his arms when she crashed right into him. “Don’t worry, he’s going to be fine.”

“Have the doctors talked to you, yet?”

Steve shook his head. The doctors hadn’t talked to him, but he knew Tony, and he was a fighter. “Not yet, but you know Tony. Stubborn as the day is long.”

Pepper clung to him for a moment, then pulled away. He could hear her taking a deep breath, visibly pulling herself together. “Yes, he is. Where is the doctor?”

“Said he’d be out to talk to me as soon as he could,” Steve replied, guiding her to a chair. “I called Jim, and he should be here in a—”

His words were cut off by Rhodes’ entrance. “Steve! Where is he?”

Steve raised a hand in greeting. He hadn’t seen much of Rhodes during the battle, and he was glad Jim didn’t seem to be too banged up.

“Still in check-up,” Steve said and had to smile, when he saw Happy following Rhodes through the door. “They want to make sure he doesn’t have any internal injuries,” he explained. “It’s only a routine check-up, but it always takes longer with the arc reactor.”

Happy shook his head with a confused sort of look. “How did all of this happen? Media’s in a fuckin’ frenzy. Some are comparing you guys to terrorists—there’s demonstrations, the NATO called in an emergency meeting, it’s all kinds of crazy.”

Steve pointedly didn’t flinch. Where should he even start? There wasn’t much he could say to this. He knew they’d have to answer a lot of questions—about Ultron, about Sokovia, about their work in general—and he had a feeling this was just the beginning of something that had, if he looked back, already started after the Chitauri invasion. “It’s a long story. If you don’t mind, I’d rather tell you some other time, preferably with Tony there.”

He still didn’t think they could’ve done anything to stop the city from being destroyed. They had given their all, had tried to save everyone—had sacrificed so much. And at the end of the day, people had died, yes, but the earth was still there, and he hoped the people would see the odds and ends, once the anger had died down a little.

“Steve,” another voice called, and Steve felt his eyebrows going up as he saw Vision walking towards them through the white corridor.

He was wearing chinos, a grey cardigan with a white polo shirt underneath, and with the red skin and the intense blue eyes, the picture he made was so weird and somehow so fitting for what Steve had secretly envisioned JARVIS to wear if he’d have a body that Steve couldn’t hide a small smile.

“Vision. Glad you’re here.”

 

* * *

 

When Vision walked into the examination room, he noticed how Steve’s eyes immediately dropped to Tony’s face, doubtlessly checking for a sign of his awakening. Only when he realized that Tony was still unconscious, did he turn to Vision. Behind them, the doctor quietly left the room, the door clicking close.

“Did you get some shuteye?” Steve asked.

“For a few hours,” Vision replied, since he suspected it was the answer Steve was hoping for. Something to confirm he was much alike a human being, though in truth he had only lay down motionless. This world was _fascinating_ and he had spent the whole time just looking at his surroundings and the city outside. “How is he?”

Steve’s gaze fell. “Hasn’t woken up yet, but it can’t be much longer.”

Vision sat down next to the bed and lay a hand on the small computer standing beneath the beeping heart monitor. He logged into the system and scrolled through Tony’s medical file, deeming his status acceptable. There really was no need to worry. He was about to ask Steve what exactly the doctors had said when a nurse stuck her head through the door. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw him sitting there, something he might have to get used to, but she reined herself in rather quickly. “Excuse me, Captain Rogers, there’s a young woman at the station asking to speak with you. She said she’s from Adoption Services?”

She looked at Steve as she said it, and the man frowned. “Did she say what she wanted?”

The young nurse shook her head. “She just said that she wanted to speak with Mister Stark’s husband, and that it was important.”

Steve rose and looked down at Vision. “Can you please stay with him for a moment? I’ll… I’ll go see what she wants.”

Vision nodded, and reached for Tony’s hand as soon as the door had closed. Tony was very still and very pale against the white sheets, and Vision found potent worry eat at him.

“Come on. It’s time to wake up. No rest for the wicked, or so you kept saying.”

Unexpectedly, as soon as the words had left his lips, something in the sleeping man’s form stirred. “Jay?” Tony mumbled, and a moment later, brown eyes looked up at Vision. His pupils were dilated, making his eyes seem almost black. Of course. They would have had to give him painkillers. As soon as his gaze focused on Vision, however, the soft expression on his face vanished. “Oh… it’s you,” he rasped, not even trying to hide his disappointment.

“You’re on the tower’s medical floor. Your file says you’re going to make a full recovery.”

It took Tony a moment for the meaning behind his words to sink in, but when they did, he groaned. “Too many hospitals lately,” he muttered hoarsely, then winced when he tried to move up.

“It’s all going to be alright,” Vision said, helping him shift position. “I’m here.”

Tony blinked slowly, and his expression hardened. He tried pulling his hand away, but Vision was having none of it, keeping it right where he was. “You _are_ here,” Tony murmured. “Real question is: why?”

The tone in Tony’s voice was harsh and closed-off, and Vision found irritation rise within, which only irritated him more. Usually, Tony’s antics left him a bit impatient, but the feeling inside him now was decidedly different. Decidedly more conflicted.

“You’re a teammate,” he explained, though he knew that word was far too inadequate for his relationship with Tony Stark. Tony Stark had created him, had given him the parameters to understand and interact with the world. Aside from those three months in Afghanistan, he’d been his constant companion, had been the one to greet him and bid him goodnight every day. And he still remembered vividly when Tony had been almost killed by Aldrich Killian, the arc reactor smashed to pieces. He remembered JARVIS cradling him in the lent arms of one of the Iron Man suits, and also remembered the disorientation and sick feeling when he had been convinced that Tony would die and leave him alone in this world for good. It had been most troubling, and he didn’t care to revisit any of that.

He realized it made him feel rather protective of the man in front of him. Even if said man currently looked like a big petulant child.

“Do you want something to drink?” Vision asked.

Tony pursed his lips, then nodded. “Please.”

Vision grabbed the glass by the side of the bed with a smile, and allowed Tony to take a few sips from the straw. “That’s enough,” he said gently, pulling the glass away. “It’s unhealthy to overdo it at this point.”

Tony nodded, although he didn’t look happy about it. “So… Ultron?”

“Gone.”

“Where’s Steve?”

“He’s here,” Vision replied. “There was someone looking for him, so he went to see what they wanted.”

Tony frowned, then sighed wistfully.

“He will be back,” Vision said, not quite understanding the sudden melancholy mood.

“I know, that’s not it,” Tony murmured. He seemed to contemplate whether or not he should be saying more, and likely came to the realization that while Vision might not be the best conversation partner, he was all he had at the moment. “It’s just that I don’t know how many more times I can make him go through this. You can’t know, but this… feels like the world’s worst déjà-vu.”

“He’d do anything for you,” Vision observed idly.

Tony snorted, and raised a questioning brow. “And you of all people would know that, because…?”

Vision paused, sorting through the thousand reasons his memory supplied him with almost instantly. He sorted through the list, then chose the one that was most likely to convince Tony. “Because when Captain Rogers stepped into your life, with no obligations at all, he already moved Heaven and Earth to do what he thought was best for you.”

Tony basically froze, staring at him with an open mouth. “What? I…” He huffed, glaring at him. “You shouldn’t talk about stuff you know shit about. You weren’t there. When Steve and I met, I didn’t matter to him at all.”

“JARVIS’ memories tell me otherwise.”

Tony’s stare turned sharp and piercing, and Vision fought the urge to laugh at the incredulous look on his face. “JARVIS is gone.”

Vision hummed. “He never told you that he found out about Steve’s undercover mission back then, did he? About half a year before you found out yourself.”

“He— _What?”_

Vision shrugged—he’d seen Wanda do it, whenever she tried to look casual, and figured it were those little things that would make him seem more human. “He figured out who Steve was, and decided to call him out on it. He did, however, realize that Steve had no hostile plans, so he decided to play along, and lie to you in the weeks to follow.”

“He… he shouldn’t have been able to do that.”

“We both know you gave him far more liberties than was probably safe for him to have. And yet, your trust was not misguided.”

“No it wasn’t. But… dammit, he really was a cunning bastard sometimes.” Tony shook his head. “He knew all along?”

Vision smiled, and he realized it was likely the first smile ever to reach his lips since he’d been transformed into this strange body.

“I suppose that depends on the point of view,” he said. “He caught on to Steve a month in.”

“A _month,”_ Tony echoed, and he sounded genuinely shocked. “What the _hell_? He couldn’t have known that Steve liked me back then! Not with certainty!”

“Well, according to my files, JARVIS decided to put faith into Steve because he had analyzed his affection for you as unconditional. He never had an ulterior motive. And remembering each of your interactions… I’m inclined to agree with him.”

Tony hummed, and for half a minute, he said nothing. Then, he raised a brow, and Vision could spot his lips twitching with amusement. “When you say you remember ‘each of our interactions’…”

Vision rolled his eyes, the gesture coming almost naturally now. “I did put in some filters. For both of our sakes.”

“Good thinking.” He didn’t say anything for long moments, his eyes travelling slowly across Vision’s features. At first, his expression was very composed, almost detached. Then, it suddenly became very vulnerable.

“JARVIS was a good friend,” he said, almost a whisper.

Vision smiled—the second one—and reached forward, wrapping a hand around Tony’s and keeping it there. “He still is.”

 

* * *

 

Steve saw Tony wincing as he pulled the shirt over his head, no matter how much he tried to hide it. Two days had passed before the doctors had decided to let him go home, with a firm warning against any kind of strenuous activity. And Steve knew what Tony hated most—other than having to spend several nights in the hospital—was that the doctors were right. With Extremis gone, he wasn’t healing faster than the average person anymore, and they both knew it would take a while to get used to that again.

It all seemed so surreal. Half of the time, Steve expected Tony to simply access Extremis, work on some blueprint, write emails, or just read the news. But instead, he was staring into space, and whenever Steve asked what was going on inside his head, he said that it felt a lot like a giant phantom pain.

Gently, he put a hand on Tony’s bare back to keep him steady. “Here, let me.”

Tony allowed Steve to take his t-shirt away, although he raised an eyebrow at the alternative. “Your sweater? That’s about twice my size.”

“It has buttons and it’ll cover you,” Steve pointed out with amusement taking over his features. “Besides, you’ll probably need at least another day before you don’t have to worry about tearing those stitches. Here, let me.”

Tony made a face but didn’t argue, letting Steve put on his blue button-down slowly. “How’s everyone, by the way? Did Vision settle in?”

“Yeah. He’s… adjusting,” Steve replied. “Observing everyone, all the time. And sticking close to Wanda.”

Tony gave him a look. “Don’t tell me Junior has a crush.”

“Maybe,” he confirmed with a smile. “It’s cute.”

“Knew he’d go all Casanova as soon as he’d have a body.”

The words warmed Steve’s heart. He was so relieved that Vision and Tony had talked, and while they all knew that things weren’t the same and would never be again—Steve was sure they’d learn to live with this new situation.

“Are you planning to give them all their own floor? I know we have space, but it’s getting crowded.”

“Well if we stopped taking in new strays every other month,” Tony said, teasing.

He gave Tony a sour look, then asked, “Or make them, you mean?”

“Fair enough.” Tony scratched the back of his head. “I, uh, actually thought about turning one of Howard’s old warehouses into a new training facility. There’s one just outside of New York. We can use the space, gives everyone a chance to retreat once in a while. And with everything going on right now, I’m not sure how the New Yorkers will deal with yet another bunch of superheroes testing their limits. We should lay low for the time being.”

Steve nodded, watching Tony’s back, recognizing the tension in his shoulders for what it was. Guilt. “Good point,” he said gently, because he knew they’d have to talk about Sokovia at one point, but this wasn’t the time.

Someone knocked on the door. They both looked up as Rhodey stepped inside, carting a wheelchair in front of him that had Tony heave an annoyed breath. “Ready to go, everyone?”

“Ready is an understatement,” Tony said fervently. “Let’s get out of here.”

 

* * *

 

A few days later, Steve found Tony waiting for him, stretched out on their bed. It was already dark outside, and inside the room, the only source of light was Tony’s arc reactor, and the tablet in his hands. His expression seemed closed-off somehow, not the distracted absent kind of look he’d sported whenever he’d been involved in Extremis, but something much more frightening, something hollow.

Steve knew how worried Tony was about the news on Sokovia. After returning home, he’d started scrolling through the latest news as soon as he got his hands on a phone. The fallout was horrifying, and at the same time, it was hard for Steve not to revel in the sense of homecoming. It might not last, but for the moment, things were calm, and they were together. It was all that mattered.

“Long time since I got to see you with one of those,” Steve mused, nodded at the tablet, and quietly closed the bedroom door behind him.

Tony smiled as he looked up to him, patting the empty space on the mattress, inviting Steve to join him. “I know. It’s so 2013,” he joked weakly and motioned for Steve’s hand as soon as he was in reach. Tony put the tablet aside and entwined their fingers. Tentatively, he pulled Steve down. The second he reclined, Steve found himself with an armful of Tony. The earthy scent of his hair tickled his nostrils, the steady drum of his heart beat soundly against Steve’s chest, the warmth of his skin enveloped him, and Steve felt as close to peace as he had since the night Ultron had stepped into their living room.

“How’re you feeling?” Steve asked.

“Better.”

Steve could see that he was at least calmer, but there was still a light in his eyes that worried him. “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing,” Tony murmured, then seemed to realize how far-fetched that statement was. He sighed. “Everything. I don’t know.”

“Please don’t shut me out.”

“I’m not shutting you out,” he replied. “This is—what do you want me to say?”

“Maybe what’s going through your head right now. No filters, no second thoughts, just tell me.”

Tony took a deep breath. “It’s slow, okay? Everything is really slow. I’m getting annoyed by my own AI, switching between tabs is literal hell, and don’t even get me started on using a fucking internet browser. It’s… it’s a work in progress, getting used to the slowness, and please don’t say you feel sorry for me because I _know_ you do and I—”

Steve pressed a hand on Tony’s mouth, keeping it there for a second before pulling back. Tony gave him an unimpressed scowl, but his expression gentled when Steve carefully turned them around and settled on top of him.

“I’m not feeling sorry for you,” Steve declared. He framed Tony’s face with both of his hands, making sure he was looking at him. “You’re the most intelligent person I know. Feel sorry for you? How could I possibly feel _sorry_. You… you keep on creating all these marvels, and I’m standing next to you and most of the time, I can’t even find words for how amazing you are. Extremis might’ve made you more efficient, but that’s just a limitation of technology you have to deal with, it doesn’t say a single thing about you. _You_ … you’re changing the world, Tony. You never needed Extremis for that.”

It took a moment, but eventually, a soft smile rose to Tony’s lips. “How do you always know what I need to hear when I don’t even know it myself?”

“It’s my secret superpower,” Steve confessed, and brushed his nose along Tony’s.

“Hmm,” Tony hummed, leaning in. “It’s a good one, too.” He slumped against the stretch of Steve’s body, still and almost entirely silent save for the sound of his ragged breathing.

Steve kissed him and parted Tony’s lips. Coaxing millimeter by millimeter until his mouth opened and he could slip his tongue inside. He went slowly, tasting him lightly, teasingly, until finally, he began to respond.

They kissed for what felt like hours, and Steve realized how long they hadn’t done that. To simply kiss, and breathe each other in. There was never enough time. Once they pulled apart, both grinning like loons, Steve let himself fall back on the bed. Lying side by side, he blindly grabbed Tony’s hand and held it against his chest.

The pulse at Tony’s wrist was beating in rapid staccato against Steve’s fingertips and he counted to ten, before he spoke up again.

“I might have to spoil the mood now,” he warned, suddenly uncertain that he should be turning cartwheels over his news. Maybe Ultron had changed Tony’s opinion on the whole thing. He hadn’t tried to talk to Tony about it and maybe, with Sokovia’s aftermath pressing down on their shoulders, they’d missed their window.

Tony’s brows furrowed, as he looked him over. “Is something wrong?”

“Well… no. Not exactly. I just…” He looked at him. “We need to talk.”

“Uh-uh, you’re aware that nothing good ever happens with those four words.”

“That’s not always true,” Steve said, twisting his fingers together. “Sometimes… well it just depends on your point of view. You shouldn’t assume…”

“Steve.” Tony held up one hand. “What is it?”

Like a man on the gallows with a rope around his neck, the wait was almost worse than the drop. He paused to collect his thoughts and put them in some kind of coherent order. “The day we brought in Loki’s scepter, do you remember how I told you I’d be willing to meet with that adoption agency?”

“Yes,” Tony said, his voice carefully neutral.

“They dropped our case,” Steve gamely plowed ahead. “One of the caseworkers turned up at the hospital and said they were very sorry but our current situation was deemed unfit for raising a child.”

Tony ran a hand through his hair. “I know. Pepper called me.”

Steve frowned. So Tony _had_ known—and simply hadn’t talked to him about it. “I know they’d been your first choice. And, sure, I think they have a point that now isn’t the best time. It sure won’t get any calmer in the next weeks, and we can’t know when things will get back to normal, but…”

Tony held up a hand. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Steve. So you’re saying no, that’s fine.”

Steve shook his head. Hell, he was doing this all wrong, and he wouldn’t beat around the bush any longer. Tony had waited for his decision long enough. “No, I’m trying to say ‘yes’ without forcing you into doing this in case Ultron changed your mind. But I think I’m not doing it very well.”

Leaning back against the headboard of the bed, Tony sat silently.

“Did you hear what I said?” Steve asked. Not that he’d expected cheering and tears of joy but… alright, maybe he’d expected some of that. “I just told you that I want to have this kid with you.”

“I know… I heard you.”

“I really mean it, Tony. I made my decision, I want this.”

Tony sat stock-still, his expression troubled, before his gaze slowly travelled back to Steve’s eyes.

Steve released a low breath. “You’re having doubts.”

Tony reached for his hand, pulling him up and into his arms. “Not about you,” he assured Steve. He grimaced and took a deep breath. “I’m happy that you want this, elated, joyful, really, but… Look, it wasn’t just the one agency that dropped us. They all did. It was difficult from the start, nearly impossible with being superheroes, fighting all the time, but with Ultron…” He sighed. “Half the world thinks we’re a group of lunatics practicing vigilante justice. A few call us serial killers. No one will let us adopt a kid. Money won’t change that.”

Steve frowned. “And Pepper…”

Tony bit his lower lip and waved at the tablet on the nightstand next to him. “Just mailed me that our last option opted out this afternoon. She did everything she could.”

Steve fell back into the cushions, staring at the ceiling. “So that’s final.”

“Yeah.” Tony searched his face, and fell silent for a long moment. “Apart from that, it’s an awfully big responsibility. And they do have a point. Now really isn’t a good time. I have a vague feeling that things are about to get much worse than they are now.”

Steve shrugged, and felt the disappointment fully leak into his system. He hadn’t thought it would hurt so much. “It’s gonna be tough, sure, but I don’t _want_ to wait for better times. If we start living that way, we’re never gonna get what we want. And… I figure the darker it gets the more we should try to make the good moments count, don’t you think?”

Dark brown eyes stared intently down into Steve’s. Tony remained silent for a moment longer. “You really want it, don’t you? It’s not just… you didn’t just settle for the idea because you want to make me happy?”

“I _always_ want to make you happy,” Steve said. “But no, it’s… I see what you meant now, when you said we had more to give. I want that. I know it won’t be easy for us, but I think it’s gonna be worth it.” He sighed. “If I hadn’t stalled that long—”

“Then we would’ve maybe gotten the go-ahead for adoption, only for them to take it away again after what happened. It’s not your fault, it really isn’t.”

Tony moved, carefully settling on top of Steve, and looking down on him. Steve had half a mind to remind him of his injuries, but Tony was moving without any visible strain, so he kept it to himself.

Tony’s hands framed his cheeks, caressing the skin there. “You want it?”

Steve didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“It’s a life-changer.”

“ _Yes_ , Tony. I know that,” Steve said on an eyeroll. “I’m aware that it’s a huge responsibility. I’m aware it’s gonna be tiresome and strenuous, but it’s gonna be _our_ kid. It’s gonna be worth it.”

With that, Tony’s expression changed. Steve could almost see the determination forming behind his eye-lids. “Alright. If you… if you want it, I’ll talk with Pepper, first thing in the morning. We’ll find a way.”

Steve smiled at him, a giddy feeling rushing through every single vein of his body. “So we’re doing this?”

Tony heaved a deep breath, held it, and exhaled. He smiled. “Yes. Let’s.”

Steve smiled back. “We’ll love this baby a lot.”

“We will,” Tony replied. He swallowed. “I… I know I don’t deserve to have a kid,” he said, and Steve was about to protest, but Tony talked right over him, while smoothing out his hair: “I _don’t_. Not you… or the home you’ve made with me… and definitely not this child. Not after everything I’ve put the Sokovians and the whole world through. But I’m gonna do right by you… and by this baby. I swear I will.”

“I already know that,” Steve said. “I trust you… and I _love_ you. It was never about whether or not _you_ would do this right. That was on me alone.”

“You’ll do great,” Tony whispered, and there wasn’t an ounce of doubt in his voice.

Taking hold of his arms, Steve gently pushed Tony off his chest and rolled them over until Steve was more or less on top of him. “In that case… How do you feel about having sex with a father-to-be?” he teased.

“Uncertain,” Tony shot back and released a breathy chuckle. He looked positively gloomy, all the worry gone now, and Steve knew he had made the right decision not to wait any longer to talk to him about this. “With a baby on the way, we should probably stop having sex altogether…”

Moving closer, Steve nibbled the hard line of Tony’s goatee, while sending one inquisitive hand down the front of his sweatpants.  “Guess you’re right. Gonna have to be dull and passionless now.”

Tony’s breath hitched. “Absolutely.”

“I feel myself losing interest already,” Steve whispered, licking his ear lobe.

With a soft moan, Tony tangled his fingers in Steve’s hair and captured his mouth with his own. His hips bucked forward, basically pressing his erection into Steve’s hand and grinding against it.

Steve parted his lips and slipped his tongue into Tony’s mouth, dancing it lightly over the edges of his teeth and wrapping it around his own.

“Good,” Tony murmured against his lips. “Have to get used to it. It’s only diapers and sleepless nights from here on out. Very unsexy.”

“Right.” Steve rearranged his hold on Tony and moved his hand downwards. “Better start practicing.”  He tugged Tony’s shirt out of his jeans, pulling it up and off, and tossing it to the floor.

Dragging his blunt nails down Steve’s spine made him jerk up and arch his back, Tony grinned. “Practice away.”

Steve rose to his knees and straddled Tony’s hips, then began to shove his pants down with impatient movements. When he had it off, he took a moment to simply watch. Tony’s body hadn’t lost any of the shiny newness Extremis had provided, but he could pinpoint the newer scars the Sokovia battle had left on him, and he knew they wouldn’t be fading any time soon.

Steve slowly leaned down and pressed his lips against the arc reactor, then licked one of Tony’s nipples.

Looking up again, he met Tony’s gaze with his. “We’re going to be parents,” he said in wonder, and he knew it’d take a while before the thought would truly sink in. “You’re going to be a dad.”

Tony snorted, trying to slap Steve and failing. “Stop telling me that while you have my dick in your hand, for _God’s_ sake, Steven.”

“Right,” Steve agreed and resumed his strokes in even motions. “No talking kids in bed.”

There was about a two-point-five-seconds pause, before Tony spoke up again. “Fuck, but I’ll love seeing you hold our child,” he blurted, then whimpered when Steve tenderly rubbed the head.

Steve snorted. “Are we talking about it now, or not?”

“No… yes… goddammit, sorry, I’m so excited that I’m making myself sick.”

“That’s a good thing,” Steve said, chuckling. “You’re going to be all domestic.”

With a soft groan, Tony rasped, “Fuck, you’re right. What the hell have you done to me?”

“Settled you down.” Steve snapped his teeth teasingly. “Tamed you.”

“Yeah, all of that,” he agreed. “Made me all soft and mushy…”

“I love you soft and mushy,” Steve said on another chuckle.

“Charmer,” Tony said. “Come on, screw being sexless parents, I gotta have it. We’ll fuck every minute the squid isn’t around, understood?” Pulling Steve back down, Tony closed his eyes when he kissed the hollow between his pectorals.

“Understood,” Steve said, moaning when Tony finally freed him of his pants as well and they made first contact. “See? We’ve already solved one of the problems. How hard can it be?”

“Yay team parents,” Tony said, then stretched sideways to open the nightstand drawer. Throwing the lube at Steve, he spread his legs. “Now solve the problem down there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, next chap's already gonna be the last one! I'm so giddy about writing Civil War, though, it's lots of fun so far, and I hope you guys will be there for it :)


	9. Epilogue

**Tony | Steve**

 

_A few months down the road_

 

Tony groaned and burrowed his head deeper into the pillow, something stirring him from sleep.

Even months after he’d given up on Extremis, it still felt somewhat strange to wake up so slowly. He’d gotten used to come out of slumber abruptly, with the virus calling for attention on some matter or the other.

There was a noise, Tony realized.

It was loud and piercing, and was yanking him out of a very nice dream by the scruff of his neck. He tried to block the sound by covering his head with another pillow, but it was too persistent. He couldn’t ignore it. Not just because it was so damn loud, but because something inside of his sleep fogged brain was telling him he shouldn’t.

_But I’m so damn tired._

The noise didn’t care. The more he tried to ignore it, the louder and more shrill it got.

Finally, with a moan of defeat, Tony opened his eyes and concentrated on the task of pinpointing the source of the sound and making it stop.

Sitting up in bed, he gazed around the room through eyes only half open, trying to identify the origin of that dream killing caterwauling. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and tried to make them focus. His gaze moved past the window front, around the couch, up and down the bookshelves, past the cradle and—

“Oh!”

Tony’s eyes snapped back in the direction they’d come from and zeroed in on the red and blue cradle. “Steve,” he breathed, tapping Steve’s naked shoulder gently. The guy didn’t even twitch. ‘Light sleeper’ my _ass_. “The baby’s crying,” Tony said a little louder, shaking him harder.

Nothing.

Leaning over, Tony placed his mouth less than an inch from Steve’s ear. “Attention, soldier!”

Steve shot straight up in bed, staring at Tony, wild-eyed. “What? What’s wrong?” he asked, blinking at Tony as though he wasn’t quite sure who he was.

The baby picked that moment to wail again.

“Tony… the baby’s crying,” Steve said, his eyes big and unsure.

Tony looked at him. “No kidding?”

Steve flopped back down on the bed. “Whassa matter with him?” he asked, his voice still sleepy. To Steve’s credit, it was the first night after they’d brought the infant home with them, and it still felt plenty unreal.

“Hell if I know.” he said. “Why don’t you go ask him? Preferably before he wakes up the entire tower.”

Steve gave him an imploring look. “He’s probably hungry,” he said, and there was a hint of panic creeping into his voice. “Or we have to change his diapers. I… God, I think I forgot how both of those things work.”

Tony pressed his eyes closed, then giggled. “Bullshit, you’ll manage just fine. Let’s do it together?”

Steve looked adorably relieved. “Yes, please.”

Still half asleep, Tony stumbled over to the cradle.

There was a ‘Big Green’ Hulk-diaper bag hanging over the handle—a gift from Clint—, stuffed with all the paraphernalia necessary for a day out with a two-weeks old baby. Diapers, wipes and various glasses of baby food that FRIDAY had deemed acceptable were laid safely away, along with a few blankies and stuffed toys.

Tony peered down into the cradle, trying to focus.

“You’re not happy right now, are you?” Carefully, he picked the baby up and held it against his shoulder, patting its shaking back. “And if you’re not happy… nobody’s happy. Isn’t that right, little squid?”

As if on cue, one of the baby’s hands settled on top of the arc reactor, and the wails died down somewhat. Tony tried to tell himself the gesture wasn’t turning him into a puddle of over-emotional goo. Quickly, he brushed a hand over the baby’s butt, finding it dry.

“There you go, buddy,” Tony cooed and deposited his son in Steve’s waiting arms. “Yep, I think he’s hungry.” With that, he walked over into the living room, heading for the kitchen. He warmed up some milk, only just remembering to check the temperature before walking back into the bedroom.

He had to stop for a second when he spotted Steve sitting on the edge of the bed, gently swaying the tiny baby from side to side, humming what sounded like a lullaby. The melody seemed old.

“What’s that?” Tony whispered, sitting down next to Steve and handing him the bottle.

Steve took it without stopping the humming sounds, then brushed the nipple over the baby’s lips. He rearranged the angle after a moment, so there wouldn’t be any air getting sucked into the baby’s tummy. “It’s called ‘The Night Nursery’,” he said eventually. “Ma used to sing it to me when I was sick. It’s… not a very happy song but I always loved the sound of it.”

Tony settled his forehead on Steve’s shoulder and kissed the skin there. “You’re gonna be a great father, you know? Everyone’s nervous at first. I’m freaking out, too, but we can only get better.”

Steve smiled, and leaned in to brush a soft kiss on Tony’s nose. “I think you’re right.” When he looked back down, Tony could practically hear Steve’s breath hitch at the sight.

“He’s so beautiful,” Tony prompted, knowing exactly what went through Steve’s head right now, because his mind was basically stuck on replay since he’d picked up his son for the first time. “Aren’t you a beauty, Ian?”

“He’s more than beautiful,” Steve said. “He’s perfect.”

Tony slipped one arm around Steve and squeezed. “Proud papa.”

Steve hugged him back. “You know I am,” he agreed. “Watch this.” He reached for the baby’s left hand and gently stroked its palm with one finger. The boy’s little fist uncurled and he instinctively wrapped his own fingers around his father’s.

“That’s my boy,” Steve whispered.

“Ohh,” Tony gasped. “He didn’t do that yesterday.”

“I know.”

“Traitor,” Tony accused the baby. “I told you not to learn new things when I’m not around. Your first word will either be ‘Daddy’ or ‘Mechanical Engineering’. How does that sound, poppet?” He waited, then looked at Steve conspiratorially. “He’s not talking yet, but he loves the idea.”

Steve laughed and pecked a kiss on Tony’s lips. “I’m sure he does.”

Both of their gazes dropped down again, and Tony felt Ian’s surprisingly strong grip around his finger tighten even more. For a moment, Tony thought he was smiling at him, but then again, it was probably just gas.

It seemed impossible to grasp it all at once. That Ian was here now, after all the struggle, all the sleepless nights. But taking one look at him, at his rosy cheeks, his soft skin, and his tiny— _tiny_ —fingers… Tony knew they’d done the right thing.

After adoption had been out of the picture, Tony’s mind had toyed with the various forms of surrogacy, but when they’d talked about it, it was clear as day that Steve was uncomfortable with the idea of paying someone to carry their child. He’d _tried_ to sound open about it, not dismiss the idea as soon as it came up, but Tony wouldn’t do anything if Steve wasn’t one-hundred percent on board with it.

However, the sad truth was, there weren’t a whole lot of other options. So Tony had been about to put it all to rest until the worst of the Sokovia fallout had been done with—until he could talk to agencies again and discuss their case with a little less baggage in tow—when Helen Cho had reached out to him with an idea that… by all means… had sounded absolutely crazy at first.

Crazy, and absolutely— _amazingly_ —revolutionary.

The first time Tony had laid eyes on the Regeneration Cradle, he’d already known it was likely the most important piece of technology he’d ever come across. More important than Iron Man, Steve’s shield or Thor’s hammer. More important even than Vision and his Infinity Stone. He’d known all that, but he couldn’t, not in a Million years, have envisioned how much it’d change his life.

Tony was well aware of what Helen could do, of course. She was by far the most visionary thinking person he’d ever come across, but this… This was a whole new game. Ironically, it was Ultron, and Vision and JARVIS that had pushed her research by a good twenty years, and brought up possibilities that would have been unthinkable just a few months before.

He hadn’t told Steve outright. Between him, Bruce and Helen, they had taken their time to really ensure the process was going to be as close to a natural pregnancy as possible. They’d worked, and worked some more, until all risks were down to a straight zero.

The day Tony _had_ told Steve, he’d expected… well, not much of anything, really. It was a shot in the dark, and he’d had no idea how Steve would react. He knew people did not give him remotely enough credit for how well he’d adapted to this century and the impact technology now had on the world, but then again… it wasn’t something any person on the planet would get used to easily.

And sure enough, when Tony had finished talking, the frown on Steve’s forehead was a prominent fixture and it didn’t smooth out again for a good few hours. Tony had basically watched him retreat inwards, pondering the idea in his head for a whole long while. Only when Helen had shown him the remodeled Cradle, throwing all kinds of neuroscience terms at him, Steve had come out of his stupor and instead started to ask about a hundred questions.

So no, Steve didn’t agree overnight, and not on the day after, but agree he did. And thus, Ian was, in fact, theirs. He was Steve’s, and he was Tony’s. And he was one of a kind.

Just like the rest of his big family was.

 

* * *

 

Steve watched his teammates with a sharp eye. On the far end of the training area Natasha and Bucky were going after one another with ferocity unmatched by any of the others; but that wasn’t unusual, so he wasn’t concerned.

What was more concerning was the way Wanda and Pietro seemed to completely ignore their surroundings. Admittedly, they were really trying to combine their powers with those of the others—Wanda by lifting everyone up in the air, and Pietro by moving each and every thing around—, but they still, even after months of training, didn’t keep track of their surroundings, and they didn’t bother to take the other’s timing into consideration.

Thus, Clint had been smashed into the wall twice, Hulk had destroyed the south wall of the training area while trying to escape Wanda’s blasts, and Sam and Rhodey had thrown in the towel ten minutes ago and were now comparing their repulsor tech on the side lines.

As Steve looked down on the remaining sparring partners, he did wonder whether Wanda and Pietro would ever be able to really fit into the team. After everything that had happened to them, it seemed they hadn’t found the thing to live for yet.

One of Wanda’s blasts broke through Vision’s defenses, sending him flying towards where Bucky and Natasha were currently fighting on the training mat. Bucky had Natasha in a stranglehold, but she managed to kick him in time to free herself and cast him a nasty grin before throwing herself at him. In that moment, however, Vision plummeted to the ground. The two cried out, breaking off and scrambling to get out of the way. “Watch it!” Natasha shouted. “This isn’t battleground!”

“No, it’s war zone!” Pietro shouted back with a cheeky grin.

“Enough!” Steve used his best drill sergeant voice, which he had perfected over the last months since he’d started training their new team members. “Wanda, Pietro, stay. The rest of you—upstairs. I think that’s enough for today.”

The two had similarly rebellious expressions on their faces as the others trooped up the stairs. Even Hulk was giving him a grateful look.

“I think it might be a good idea to let the two of you train separately for a week,” Steve suggested, keeping his tone mild. “Natasha will supervise, give you pointers. Then she’ll team you up with one of the others at a time.”

“We didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” Pietro muttered.

“You didn’t hurt anybody, but you and Wanda both still get so caught up in the fight, that you don’t think about anyone or anything around you.” When it appeared as though they were going to protest, Steve held up a hand to cut them off. “I’m not passing judgment. I’m simply stating a fact. It’s something you’ll grow into eventually, and I’ll check on your progress in a month when I’ll take over training again. Now, if you want to continue, you’re more than welcome to do so.”

When they both smiled at him, Steve knew that he’d made the right decision. He should’ve freed them from worrying about the others sooner, and while they had often forgotten their surroundings, they had also held back, and that wasn’t what this was about, exactly.

“Knock yourself out. I’ll just be upstairs. We’re fixing dinner for the birthday party, so join us once you’re done.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Natasha greeted him as he stepped out of the training room.

Steve shrugged. “We’ve both tried talking to them several times, and they haven’t budged. This is what they want to do, what helps them. Who are we to say otherwise? Maybe we can work on our tactics as soon as they’re done getting all that rage out.” He clapped his hands, then put an arm around Natasha and steered her into the direction of the facilities’ elevator.

“In any case, they’re not gonna hurt anyone out here, and I have a birthday cake to bake.”

“Tony still hiding in the workshop?”

Steve grinned. “I’m counting on it. He’d only be nagging the whole time I cook. He really didn’t want to celebrate.”

“How did you change his mind?”

His grin might’ve turned a little diabolic then. “Told him it’s also Ian’s three-weeks-birthday and that we would have to wait a whole year before we could throw a party for him otherwise.”

Natasha chuckled. “Clever.”

“Thought so, too.”

 

* * *

 

“How many people are you cooking for?” Natasha asked with some amusement, stepping into the kitchen and looking down at the big pot of potato soup stirring on the stove. There was spiced roast in the oven, the side dishes were well underway, and Steve had already fixed up the cake batter for Tony’s birthday cake.

He gave her a stern look. “There are twelve of us here, and you’ve seen Thor eat.”

“Right,” Natasha said, then added with a mischievous grin: “But Phil hasn’t seen Vision eat yet, that’s something to look forward to.”

Steve laughed and handed her staple of platters. “Take that to the table, please. I think we need two more chairs if Maria and Phil are joining us.”

She took the plates but didn’t immediately leave the kitchen.

“Phil loves children, fair warning. He might latch onto Ian like an octopus.”

Steve nodded. “Noted, thanks.”

“Are you okay with this today?” she asked. “I was sure you guys would want a bit more privacy before you introduced him to the whole gang, and I know Clint invited more people than you thought would be there.”

“It’s okay,” Steve said, smiling. “Come tomorrow, we’ll take a few days just for us. But today we want everyone to have a good time. Celebrate a little.”

“You deserve it. Ian, he is…” Natasha trailed off, and shook her head, chuckling as she searched for a word. “He’s something else.”

“Found your soft spot, Romanov?” Steve asked, smirking at her.

She rolled her eyes. “Please. Just making an exception for the special ones.”

The grin turned softer and he looked after her for a moment, before he turned back around to finish the dishes.

When Steve followed Natasha few minutes later, he took a moment to look around the new common room. It had taken a while to get used to the idea of spending half of their time away from the tower, and to split up their lives between the two places. The facility had been in fairly good shape from the start, albeit a bit dusty, but by now, they’d managed to make the whole place just as homey as the tower was.

Everyone was already here, Steve realized—Maria and Phil, Pepper and Happy, Rhodey, and the rest of his team. He greeted them all, accepting the many heartfelt congratulations with as little bashfulness as he could, before he made to ready the table for dinner.

He didn’t realize that Tony had stepped out of the elevator until the room fell completely still.

Ian was wrapped snugly in a blue cotton blanket. Tony walked closer, smiling when the first ‘happy birthdays’ and awed noises arose. He held the baby close, patting its tiny back, and Steve felt a sudden rush of pure love move through him.

That was his _family_.

“Say ‘hello’ to everyone, Ian,” Tony told the baby, turning around so everyone could see their son’s face. “Fatherly advice number eighty-seven: Memorize their faces, and don’t listen to a word those people say, they’re all completely nuts.”

“Hush,” Maria chided, and unexpectedly, she was the first to stand and walk up to Tony. She leaned down a bit, smiling as brightly as Steve had ever seen her do as she regarded the newest addition to the Avengers’ household.

Tony grinned at the awed noise she made then, and cleared his throat. “Everyone, meet Ian James Stark-Rogers.”

At that, the baby smacked its lips and angled its face toward Maria. Ian’s eyes opened and bright blue eyes peeked out from surprisingly dark lashes. Maria murmured something and the baby mewled, its eyes blinking languidly.

“God, but he’s a beauty,” Pepper said from where she was hovering close to Tony, and soon after, everyone from the team was standing in a circle around the two. Through it all, Tony’s eyes never left Ian, only when he sensed Steve’s gaze, he glanced up, and smiled at him.

They didn’t need to talk in that moment; his thoughts were all over Tony’s eyes.

_We’ve done a damn good job with this one._

“Lotta hair for a little guy,” Sam mused, grinning down at Ian.

Tony chuckled. “Well, that’s on me. If we Starks aren’t careful, we have whole head of curls. Sorry, baby.”

Ian took that moment to yawn adorably, and the disgruntled expression that followed sent everyone to another cooing-fit.

“That look’s all you, Stevie,” Bucky decided on, grinning.

“Very funny,” Steve said, smiling back at him.

“Wanna hold him?” Tony asked Bucky, and Steve raised a brow in surprise, because he hadn’t expected that. Not that Tony didn’t like Bucky—Steve was sure that beneath a layer of side-comments, snark and banter, the two actually liked each other—but _that_ , he hadn’t seen coming.

“Don’t think that’s a good idea,” Bucky replied, and already backed away somewhat.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Don’t be stupid, you’ll be like our… fourth, no fifth babysitter-choice. Gonna have to hold him at some point.”

“Stark, I really—” The last word turned into an uncomfortable gasp, when Tony simply moved forward and gently deposited Ian in Bucky’s arms. He didn’t let go of him for a good few seconds, though, waiting until Bucky’s stance relaxed and he reached around to cradle the baby in his arms.

Ian was so _tiny_ , Steve thought. The thought had occurred to him often in those last days. Ian’s entire head fit perfectly in the palm of Bucky’s hand. Their baby boy appeared unaffected by all the excitement. He yawned, stretched and settled down quickly.

“God, but he’s tiny,” Bucky breathed.

Steve snorted. He and Bucky always thought way too much alike.

He leaned back in his chair somewhat, and smiled at the scene playing out in front of him. Phil was cooing at the baby, while both Pepper and Rhodey had an arm around Tony’s middle to get a closer look. Natasha had somewhat sneaked up on Bucky, delicately brushing her thumb across Ian’s forehead, and Bucky himself still looked like he would soon pass out.

At some point, Wanda and Pietro joined the group, and Steve hid a laugh when Vision immediately hurried over to the table to bring Wanda something to drink.

“She likes red wine,” Steve offered when he saw him reaching for the bottle of Chardonnay.

Vision stopped in his movements, then cast Steve a nervous little smile, nodding his thanks as he reached for the Merlot, instead. “I was… going to offer it to the both of them,” he added, as if on a second thought.

“Of course,” Steve agreed, and only let his grin show when Vision had already turned around.

The room was buzzing with chatter and laughter, and Steve simply let himself revel in it for once. At some point Maria sat down at the table across from Steve, raising her glass at him. “Really, congratulations to the both of you,” she said. “Pepper told me it hasn’t been easy.”

“We had a lot of support,” Steve said simply, returning the smile she cast him.

“He actually does look a lot like you,” Maria mused after a moment, looking back to the group still standing around Tony.

“That’s because he’s his,” Phil explained, taking a seat as well. He raised an eyebrow at Steve. “Isn’t he? Your’s and Tony’s.”

“Yes, he’s ours,” Steve agreed. Phil looked intrigued, and a bit disbelieving, so Steve figured he’d either gotten word of how Ian had come to this world, or he’d put two and two together. In any case, Steve didn’t mind—he would never, not once, be ashamed of their son.

At Maria’s wide, questioning eyes, however, Steve added: “Helen offered her help. If you want the details you gotta ask Tony or Bruce, it’s… miles over my head, but, yeah, Ian is ours.”

“That’s incredible,” Maria said, even while shaking her head a little. Steve could sympathize. It had taken a while for him to really warm up to the idea, too. “Will you make it public?”

“No, not in detail,” Steve replied. “Not yet, at least. Helen said she didn’t think the world was quite ready for it and we agree.”

“So Ian…”

“Is officially Tony’s. Pepper already got the adoption papers settled. Wasn’t too much of a problem with us being married.”

There was a moment of silence, and Steve had to bite back a grin when both Phil’s and Maria’s eyes kept getting drawn back to where Ian was happily gurgling in Tony’s arms. He sure was a sight to be seen.

“Tony Stark is standing in front of me with a baby in his arms. And he’s not trying to run away,” Phil mused to himself. “My past self would probably be having a laughing fit right now.”

Maria gave off an unladylike snort. “Tony Stark becomes a _father_ without him fleeing to the Bahamas with twenty girls and a container of booze in tow? Believe me, _my_ past self would—”

“Be nice, Maria,” Pepper chided, as she sat down as well.

“That is our way of being nice,” Phil replied, then chuckled, as if remembering something. “You have to admit it though: Who thought this would happen when Nick sent Steve to spy on Tony.”

“My bet was they’d kill each other two weeks in,” Maria said.

“To be fair, two weeks in, it still looked like they would. And—I’m still mad about that, by the way.” Pepper’s voice sounded accusatory, but her happy smile belied all words. “I keep wondering if Nicholas is proud of playing matchmaker or despairs over it.”

“A bit of both,” Maria and Phil said at the same time, and all of them broke into laughter.

“We both got lucky,” Steve said as soon as he’d composed himself, and felt something very peaceful settle inside of him.

It was… amazing how quickly life could change, and how little it took to make it a completely different life from the one you’d been leading. Steve had gone from a soldier with no family, to a husband and a father. Somehow, in spite of the wrenching twists and turns life had put him through, he had come out on the other side with a new world filled with love and hope and endless possibilities.

Ian’s way to this world might be something people wouldn’t understand—not yet, at least—and Steve was aware of that. But that always happened with things that were foreign. It had taken him a few weeks to get used to the idea, too. Weeks of tiptoeing around the Cradle, staring down at it, trying to somehow imagine that a human being would be born in there in nine months.

It had been a daring thing they’d done. And while it was by no means normal, Ian was a healthy little guy, and he would be loved beyond measure.

“What’s the serious face for?” Tony’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, and Steve hadn’t even realized that the others had already taken their seats around the dinner table. Tony cradled Ian in his arms, gently hopping him up and down a bit.

“Just that… it’s so strange to think that I’m a father now.”

Tony laughed. “Oh, I can relate. Imagine my difficulty believing I’m a dad. It’s a whole new world for us, isn’t it, darling?” he asked the sleeping baby in his arms. “You’re the boss now, gotta tell us where to go.”

“If he’s got only an ounce of our temper, I don’t think he’ll be able to help himself.”

Tony snorted and leaned up to kiss Steve’s lips. “True.”

There was a click and a flash, and when Steve looked up, Clint was already handing Natasha her phone back, who passed it further around, showing everyone the photo Clint must’ve taken.

“That’ll be 15 Million dollars,” Tony said, his voice deadpan.

Natasha grinned deviously. “Nah, if I wanted to make money with compromising photos of you, I’d have started years ago.”

Tony grimaced. “That’s disturbing.”

“You can call it that,” Bucky agreed.

Steve cast him a firm, disapproving look that instantly vanished when he took the phone from Sam. The choked noise that left his lips went mercifully uncommented. They looked so… _happy_. There were wrinkles around Tony’s eyes from how much he was grinning while pressing his lips to Steve’s, and his own form was fully leaning into Tony, his fingers softly caressing Ian’s head.

It looked like they didn’t have a single care in the world.

“Look,” he said and held up the phone so Tony could look at the display. “That’s us.”

Tony smiled, nodding. “Damn straight.”

Clint snorted, and got a whack on the head for his efforts. “ _Hey_ ,” he called.

“Don’t ruin the moment,” Natasha chided and leaned back against Bucky, who only smiled at Steve in the most easy-going way he’d seen him smile since he’d join their team. Bucky reached for his beer and raised it in Steve’s direction, quietly toasting him with the bottle.

Steve mimicked the gesture, then wrapped his arms around Tony, closing his eyes.

This was home, he thought to himself, thanking whoever had been kind enough to help a poor and sickly guy from Brooklyn to even make it this far.

 

* * *

 

“Here, make a wish,” Steve prompted and raised the first cupcake in Tony’s direction. They were standing in the kitchen, preparing dessert. For a few blessed minutes, it was just the two of them, with Pepper monitoring Ian in the middle of all the craziness that was an Avengers team dinner.

Steve motioned at the tiny candle in the middle of the cupcake. On top of the meringue frosting, there was a delicately written _40+_.

Tony rolled his eyes, but softly blew against the flame until it died out, anyway. Steve had put so much work into the whole dinner, inviting all their friends, and even though Tony _hated_ birthdays, especially his own, the least he could do was to make sure the evening turned out exactly as Steve had planned it. So he closed his eyes and made a wish, however stupid the whole concept was.

“Sap,” he chided when he saw Steve’s adoring expression.

Steve hummed in agreement and kissed Tony soundly on the lips. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“You said so like… thirty times today,” Tony replied, rolling his eyes. “How often do I have to say it’s not a day to celebrate?”

Steve winked. “How about one more time.”

Tony rolled his eyes and bumped Steve in the side with his elbow. “It’s a day to weep and mourn my youth and cry in the face of all those wrinkles and grey hairs I’m getting.”

“I love your grey hairs and I love your wrinkles,” Steve teased and leaned in to kiss Tony’s forehead and then the laughter lines next to his eyes. “You age well and you know it.”

“Seriously, your sappiness reached a whole new level. You should probably have someone check your head or something.”

Steve laughed, and turned back around to arrange the last cupcakes. “So, what did you wish for?” he asked.

Tony wrapped his arms around Steve from behind. “I can’t tell you that,” he said, nuzzling the side of Steve’s neck. And—all right fine—birthdays _did_ get him a bit sentimental. The prospect of starting a new year in your life while simultaneously keeping the good things… he was a sucker for new beginnings.

Steve smiled. “Come on… tell me what you wished for,” he coaxed.

“I suppose I could, but then it won’t come true.”

Steve turned around in Tony’s embrace, and leaned back against the counter, raising a brow. “What are you saying… that my science-genius-‘everything is numbers and formulas’-husband thinks birthday wishes come true? Since when?”

“Since when?” Tony repeated and smiled amiably. “How about… since the first time you told me you love me?”

Steve’s eyes became soft with tenderness. “Well, who’s the sap now?” he murmured, wrapping his arms around Tony’s neck.

“Yes, me, whatever,” Tony placed his hands on Steve’s hips and pulled him in until their lower bodies came into contact.

Steve returned the pressure he was applying. “You’re not gonna tell me, are you?”

“Afraid not, schnookums.”

Steve moved his hips slowly from side to side. “Nothing will pry it out of you?”

Tony’s body responded to his movements, but he still shook his head. “No,” he managed to say. “But… feel free to keep on… prying.”

His side-to-side motion switched to back and forth, with a little grinding pause every time he moved forward.

Fully prepared to lower the two of them to the kitchen floor and let Steve have his way with him right then and there, guests be damned, Tony’s eyes opened wide when Steve abruptly stopped his teasing and pulled back. “Hey!”

“Suit yourself,” Steve said, pushing away. “It’s just as well anyway. I feel a headache coming on.” He massaged his temples. “The kind that lasts for two or three days.”

“You’re such an ass! Alright, you win,” Tony conceded instantly, yanking Steve back. “I’ll talk. I’ll tell you anything you want to know… Birthday-cake-wishes… state secrets… Hilary’s dress size… pick a subject.”

“You know,” Steve smiled devilishly, “I kind of thought you might.”

Tony gave him a disapproving look. “You fight dirty.”

“Well, I learned from the best.” Steve turned and swiped his finger through the chocolate mousse. “Taste?” he asked, offering it to Tony.

Tony took his finger into his mouth, licking the chocolate off. When he released it, he scooped up a dollop of the mousse on his own finger, and with a waggle of his left brow, he smeared it across his lips.

Steve rolled his eyes but leaned in anyway, licking Tony clean of the sticky chocolate.

“You taste sweet,” he murmured.

Before Tony could even begin to form a reply, they were interrupted.

“You know, sometimes you two are absolutely sickening.” Bucky stood in the kitchen doorway, his arms folded across his chest. “Not to put a damper on your kinky fun with food, but are you planning to serve that dessert sometime soon? Vision looks about ready to storm in here, Clint keeps telling him that chocolate mousse is the best thing about humanity. And if I have to watch Thor playing ‘Where’s the baby’ with Ian one more time I’ll have to stab him.”

Steve pulled back and smiled. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you are,” Bucky said. “Look, play games with the leftovers, okay? You have dessert deprived people out there waiting for chocolate mousse.”

Tony turned to him. “And you’re the first in line.”

Bucky huffed but didn’t deny it. They all knew he had a sweet tooth.

“Why don’t you run along and play nicely with the other children until it gets there?”

“Guess what?” Steve said, after Bucky left, his voice at least one octave lower. “I have another can of frosting in the pantry.”

Tony released him so abruptly that he almost fell. “Then let’s get this party over with. Fast.” As if to solidify his statement, he took a stack of dessert plates out of the cupboard, while Steve finished arranging the little mousse glasses.

“You never told me what you wished for,” he reminded him.

Tony hesitated. “It’s stupid,” he finally said.

“I’m sure it’s not.”

Leaning back against the counter next to Steve, Tony stared at his feet. “I wished…” He huffed, and shook his head in a self-deprecating motion. “I wished that I’ll remember every single one of his birthdays, that I won’t become the sort of person who’s too busy to find time for little gestures, and that he… that he still wants me around for his birthdays when he gets older.”

Steve smiled at him. He cupped his hand beneath his chin and made Tony look at him. “That’s not stupid. I think it’s a lovely wish. And I love you for making it, but… I know in my heart that it’s not necessary. You won’t ever become like Howard, you’re not capable for that, sweetheart. I wish you could stop worrying so much.”

Tony smiled and brushed his fingers through Steve’s hair. “I probably will at some point, give me a little time.”

Steve took a deep breath, then nodded. He wrapped his arms around Tony again. “Love you,” he said in his ear.

“Love you, too,” he answered.

They were just about to kiss when a voice floated in from the living room.

“We’re still wait-ing,” Clint sing-songed.

Tony dropped his head onto Steve’s shoulder in frustration. “Someday… I’m really gonna kill him.”

Steve nodded. “Someday, I’ll hold him while you do it.” He sighed. “Come on… grab some plates and let’s get this party done.”

Tony leered at Steve. “And then the _real_ party starts, right? The private one?”

“Patience, Casanova,” Steve said, patting his cheek. “I promise you can eat all the chocolate you want… from wherever you want.”

“How’s that supposed to make me calm down?”

“Who says I want you to calm down?” Steve asked. “You just need to wait ‘til our son is very much asleep.”

Tony sighed, sounding tormented. “That’s how this will work from here on out, huh?”

“Exactly.”

Together, they made their way into the living room, and handed out portions of cake and chocolate mousse glasses.

“What’s this?” Clint asked plaintively. “No ice cream?”

Tony straightened up and stared right at him. “Do you want us to go back into the kitchen?”

He immediately reached for the plate. “You misunderstand,” he said. “I meant ‘No ice cream?’ in a good way… because I never touch the stuff.”

“That’s what I thought you meant,” Tony said. “Now, shut up and eat the damn cake.”

 

* * *

 

An hour later, Steve waved at the others as the elevator’s doors closed. After asking FRIDAY to lock the penthouse, he turned around and saw Tony standing at the foot of the stairs, tossing the can of chocolate frosting from one hand to the other, smirking at him.

“Ian?” Steve asked, as he approached.

“Out like a light. Think Thor wore him out.”

“Good.” Snatching the can in mid-air, Steve grabbed Tony’s hand and basically dragged him up the stairs. They didn’t waste much time, and soon enough, Steve had Tony beneath him, naked and ready and very willing. There were still some chocolate smudges on both of their bodies, but foreplay was only bearable for so long.

“Three damn weeks,” Tony ground out, as Steve rolled Tony onto his belly, positioning himself behind him.

“I know,” Steve replied. He pressed his erection against Tony’s bottom, teasing his rim before pulling back again.

Tony immediately reached behind himself, placing his hand on Steve’s cock. Turning his head, he glared at him with impatience. “Not getting any younger here, damn it, come _on_.”

Steve had to laugh. “Maybe I love seeing you squirm with need,” he said, pressing forward again. Lifting Tony’s hips slightly, he pushed himself into the tight warmth. “Here we go,” he breathed, beginning to slide in and out.

Tony braced himself with one hand against the headboard and pushed back to meet Steve’s thrusts. Biting his lower lip, Tony glanced towards the cradle standing in front of the bookshelves. His expression was visibly strained, and he leaned forward to press his face into the next pillow, effectively muffling all sounds.

“Don’t do that,” Steve ordered. “I want to hear you. Can’t be quiet all the time.”

“Don’t tempt me,” came the mumbled return.

Steve leaned forward to speak right into Tony’s ear. “He’s asleep. This won’t wake him. Come on, let me hear you.” With that, Steve increased the pace of his thrusts, pumping deep and hard, reaching around front of him to play with Tony’s cock again.

“ _So_ unfair,” Tony whimpered, but his head leaned sideways nevertheless, and even his subdued panting and moaning was driving Steve crazy within seconds. Tony never used to be silent during sex, and Steve absolutely loved that about him, and refused to be deprived of it just because they were parents now.

Tony threw his head back, straining all his muscles. “Feels so good,” he mumbled. “Harder, please.”

“Mmm,” Steve hummed, and did as Tony asked. Soon after and with a soft cry and a final tensing of his internal muscles, Tony came so hard that he brought on Steve’s own orgasm before he knew what was happening.

He actually felt dizzy as he emptied himself into his husband’s body, slowing down a little at a time, until he was buried all the way in him, pressing hard against his rear, his hand cupped over his leaking cock.

Lying half on top of Tony a few minutes later, his cheek pillowed on the hard muscle of his chest, Steve smiled as he listened to the steady thump of his heartbeat, and the low vibration of the arc reactor. “Happy birthday,” he whispered.

Tony groaned a bit as he moved. “Thanks. Think you broke me.”

Carefully lifting the blanket, he peeked down at Tony’s crotch. “Nah, you’re good.” A pause. “Come to think of it…” Steve smiled and moved down the bed, under the blanket. Wrapping his fingers firmly around Tony’s soft shaft, Steve took it into his mouth, sucking it gently. He might not be able to make him come again, but he knew Tony loved a bit of over-sensitivity.

As expected, Tony’s eyes snapped open, and his hips lifted instinctively. “You can’t be serious,” he muttered, his voice slurred. “S-Steve?”

“Down here,” he said. “Don’t mind me. You just go on with what you were doing.”

Tony moaned and squirmed beneath Steve. “I was busy being completely sexed out, thanks very much. Give an old man a break, will ya?”

“Not old. And I don’t think you need one.” Steve continued working over him, his lips and his tongue sliding up and down, licking and sucking him until Tony’s cock twitched with interest.

“Fuck,” Tony panted. “Only you ever managed to do that to me, I swear to God…”

 

* * *

 

_A few weeks later_

 

Steve woke before dawn, slipping out of bed. Tony slept on, the look on his face peaceful. Content. A soft smile stole across Steve’s features and he reached out to smooth a stray curl of black hair.

When he walked out of the bedroom, Steve shut the door behind him, briefly contemplating the items on their to-do list. Their pile of laundry was reaching Mount Everest proportions, but it was Tony’s turn to do it. Tony had agreed to do some of the housework themselves, and now that Steve had finally drummed home the importance of separating colors and checking the tags for instructions, he didn’t have to supervise anymore.

Steve popped the bones in his back with a groan and decided that a shower had to come first, before he went to check on Ian. Walking into the bathroom, Steve automatically picked up a few wet towels from the bath fun yesterday and wrinkled his nose. It was definitely time to switch them out.

He showered quickly, rinsing himself in all the military-efficiency Tony still found so amusing. After getting dressed in sweats and a shirt, Steve walked back over to their bedroom, peering inside and smiling to himself when he heard the little gushing sounds coming from the cradle.

“Look who’s awake,” he whispered conspiratorially, looking down on his son who was watching him with his big blue eyes. “And you didn’t even tell us. Admit it, daddy told you when it’s his turn for morning duties, huh, buddy? What did he bribe you with for sleeping through, more cuddles than papa?”

Carefully, Steve picked up the infant and pressed it against his chest. Every time he did this, he still had a moment of potent fear of how easily he could hurt this fragile human being, but he knew now that some things just needed time.

It was a bit crazy, how much he loved the little bundle—and how that kind of love completely changed who you were. There were all these soft wisps of brown hair, and even softer blue eyes… and his son was _perfect_ , simple as that. Unable to help himself, Steve brushed his nose along Ian’s head, inhaling the wonderful unique scent.

“Lies and slander,” Tony said, sitting up in their bed and smiling at him with an adorably sleep-rumbled look. “You know, seeing you hold our child is… something else entirely.”

“I know,” Steve said, chuckling when Ian gurgled happily. “Feel the same way when it’s you.”

Tony walked up to him, wrapping his arms around Steve’s middle and leaning up on his toes.

“Happy Birthday, darling boy,” he said, kissing the baby’s cheeks.

“What are you talking about?” Steve asked. “It’s nowhere near his birthday.”

“Of course it is,” he insisted. “He’s eight weeks old today, aren’t you, precious?”

“Oh God,” Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he’s really getting up there, isn’t he? Seems like it was only six weeks ago that we brought him home. Where _does_ the time go?”

Tony huffed in mock-outrage. “Your father has a sarcastic way about him sometimes,” he said, brushing his thumb across the baby’s back. “It’s not very attractive.”

Steve couldn’t stop himself. “He’ll be asking to borrow the car any day now.”

“No one,” Tony stated firmly, “except for me will be driving him anywhere.”

“What about me?”

“ _You?_ ” Tony laughed. “You and your Death-on-Wheels? Yeah, I don’t think so.”

Steve knew better than to open that can of worms, so he decided to take another track. Folding his arms across his chest, he sat down on the end of the sofa next to the cradle.

“Oh, look at you,” Tony said, laughing, when Ian glanced at them sleepily. He sat down next to Steve and brushed a finger along the baby’s forehead, stopping at his mouth when it made some suckling motions.

Steve chuckled. “He’s a charmer,” he observed. “He’s stolen everyone’s heart.”

“He’s one of those special kids who’s actually special and not just so because their parents like to brag.”

Steve arched a brow. “Yeah, because you never brag.”

Tony shrugged with a shameless grin. “Me? Brag?” He exchanged a conspiratorial glance with Steve. “Perish the thought.”

Things grew silent then for a long minute. Then Tony yawned right into Steve’s neck, slumping a bit forward. “I’m so tired,” he mumbled into his skin.

“Go back to bed, then,” Steve suggested. Tony had only come home late last night, another meeting in DC holding him hostage. And Steve knew there was another one in Manhattan this afternoon.

Things were… tense, to put it mildly. The US government was prying more and more into their lives. For now, Tony had been able to keep them at bay, but Steve knew it was just a matter of time before they all had to testify about Sokovia. For now, though, all he could do was have Tony’s back.

“I’ll feed him, then take him to the park.”

“Nuh-uh, it’s Wednesday,” Tony mumbled. “It’s my turn for morning duties.”

“I know you didn’t sleep at all,” Steve pointed out. “It’s fine. I got a little shut eye, I don’t mind.”

“Really?” Tony asked, sounding genuinely thankful. “Uh, you’re the best.”

Steve grinned, turning around somewhat to give Tony a sloppy kiss to the nose that had him wrinkle it in disgust immediately. “Remember that when you take over for me tomorrow.”

Tony groaned and pulled back. “Ugh! I knew it. There’s always a catch now. All the love is gone.”

“Not at all.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but a small smile took hold of his face as soon as he looked down on their son once more. He cupped Ian’s cheek, chuckling when he leaned into the touch.

“Did you know it’d be so hard?” Tony asked quietly.

“I had an idea, yeah. Our current situation doesn’t exactly make it easier.”

Tony hummed, dropping his head on Steve’s shoulder. “Worth it, though.”

“Worth it,” Steve agreed.

Outside, dawn was slowly creeping over the streets of New York. Tony’s hand snagged Steve’s, lifting it to his lips and kissing each of his knuckles.

“What time do you have to be in today?” Steve asked after a few minutes had ticked by. Ian was calming down, still slightly suckling but it seemed he was on the verge of falling asleep again.

“When I get there. Sometime around noon, I don’t know. Ross will just have to wait for me.” Tony’s head found its way to the crook of Steve’s neck and he settled further into his arms. “I’m so tired of this. Feels like I’ve been sitting in courtrooms for a year straight…”

“I bet you are. Haven’t got too much longer.”

Tony scrunched up his nose, and Steve knew it was an easy thing for him to say—and something he couldn’t exactly know.

“Unless our sprogs decide to do something stupid,” Tony joked.

Steve’s free hand slapped him playfully. “Our teammates are not sprogs.”

“Rugrats? It’s all one and the same. Could call them hell-spawn if you want.”

“Not funny, Tony.”

Tony snorted, and fell quiet for a moment longer. He reached for the baby’s head, trailing one finger through the wisps of hair, feeling the smooth skin below, and Steve knew that aside from him, Tony had never loved another human being that much.

“They have every right to ask the hard questions, though,” Tony said. “Lot of people died that day.”

Steve sighed. “I know. But they can’t put us on a leash, either. We can only do what we do because we don’t answer to a higher-up of any sorts.”

There was a long moment of quiet, and when Steve looked down, Ian’s eyes were closed, his breaths evening out.

Lifting his gaze again, Steve realized Tony was staring at him intently. And there was something in his eyes that gave Steve pause. A flare of insecurity. Uncertainty. Doubt. “We’re gonna get through this together, aren’t we?” Tony asked quietly.

“Yeah,” he assured him and tugged Tony close for a kiss. “Of course we will.”

Steve knew the last year hadn’t been easy, the loss of Extremis forcing Tony to once more learn how to function without the ability to perform inventions and improvements at his fingertips. On the other hand, there was the government, calling him over to DC almost every other day. And there was Ian.

And yet, there was no reason to be afraid. It wasn’t just the two of them—the whole team had grown close, each and every one of them. No matter what, they always had each other’s back, and Steve was sure there was nothing that could drive them apart.

His arms locked around Tony, one hand smoothing down the tense line of his back, while the other cupped Ian’s tiny head protectively. “Nothing will make me leave your side… I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After two glasses of wine and a few deep breaths I decided not to whine your ears off about how much I despaired over this last chapter and the way little Ian would come to this world (because I did. A lot. For a long time.), but please let me tell you that a lot of thought and an intense amount of research went into this idea. It's of course pseudo-science (with a few techniques in mind that might be possible in the future) but something I do think is possible in the MCU. And I genuinely believe that if something like this is done with lots of love and care and no ulterior motives, it's not something to be frowned upon.  
> In any case I invite you all to chat me up on Tumblr and discuss this with me if you feel the need, because I KNOW this is a different approach and one not all of you might like ... and if that's the case I hope you can overlook this part and still enjoy the upcoming Civil War installment. :-) Little Ian will now play a part in this verse, it's one of the few changes I decided to do because... let's be honest: Civil War with a baby? Heartbreaking. (However ... since I got so many asks: I intend for Civil War not to actually break any Stony hearts. It won't be all sunshine and butterflies, of course, but I love them too damn much to really do any permanent damage. If you survived this AoU fic, CW will be bearable, too. Pinky promise.)  
> (Side note: Yes, I took the name Ian from the 616 verse, with complete 100% disregard to 616!Ian Rogers’ history. I simply liked the name and the fact that Steve once loved a son and named him Ian.)  
> Many thanks to: [morphia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/morphia/pseuds/morphia) for beta-reading, and more importantly for listening to me whining for about 4 months straight, and for giving me new ideas and pointers. Also a BIG thank you to [ironspangled](http://ironspangled.tumblr.com/), [lindadaa](http://lindadaa.tumblr.com/) and [superhusbands4ever](http://superhusbands4ever.tumblr.com/) for test-reading this chapter. Your thoughts helped a ton and calmed my nervous mind a little.
> 
> Can’t really predict yet when I will be able to post the first CW chapter, but I hope it won’t be too long. Thank you all SO MUCH for reading and commenting and talking to me about the series on Tumblr. <3


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